A White Moon Rises
by Orcagirl2001
Summary: AU Bakumatsu, 1867 - Battousai comes out of the shadows to reveal his true heart to an innocent flower in this rivetting tale of tragic romance.LAST CHAPTERS UP! FINISHED!
1. Prologue: Out from the Shadows

A/N  
  
Hey! This is my first Rurouni Kenshin fic! I hope you like it! It's spawned from my imagination although a few scenes might seem familiar. Some OOCness but nothing too bad. Please R&R. I'm a newbie! ^^  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin but I do own all characters non- related to it.  
  
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Prologue - Out from the Shadows  
  
Night, shrouded in gloom and fog, with the full moon blotted out by thick dark clouds hovering like banshees overhead, covered the city of Kyoto. No stars shined through the evening mist, no soul stirred within their quilted beds, no owl cried out mournfully, for the shadow of a killer haunted the streets. Leaping through the night like wolves on the hunt, the attackers came, swift as the eagle at midday, across the vacant stone paths. The killer could hear their approach long before their shadows played on the rooftops and vendor booths. His smooth white hands loitered on the hilt of his katana, trembling slightly in anticipation. A hush lingered in the trees, and a soft breeze drifted through the city, creating an ironically peaceful atmosphere. The attackers ignored it, waiting in the shadows for the exact moment to strike. The killer, however, relished in the peace that enveloped him, the midnight wind flowing through his scarlet hair, as he studied his opponents in the darkness. Even though they remained hidden he could sense the presence of amateurs. Little sounds of trembling hands on hilts of swords, and quiet shoofing of straw sandals not only gave away their locations but also their fear. Granted, they should be fearful.  
  
In a flash the wolves leaped from their hiding places and circled the killer in a ritualized formation, surrounding their enemy and using their strength of numbers. A wicked smile played on the killer's lips as he watched their ankles tremble from behind his thick bangs. Only five men had been sent this time. The ones who sought his demise were finally beginning to learn their lesson about how many men to send out against him. They had come to respect his skills as a swordsman. He was glad for a taste of that. However, as things were, he still had their spite to deal with. Had the cowards shown their true faces, instead of hiding behind a pack of mangy dogs, they would have realized the danger long ago, that of a man without a drop of mercy.  
  
From the left, the killer noticed a rush of silver coming toward him. Swiftly, he pulled his sword from its sheath in a swooping strike and cut down the first who came against him. The second from behind received his due as the killer leaped into the air, avoiding a backstab and came down harshly, his sword crushing the man to the ground. The remaining three grew hesitant as they saw the burning fire in the killer's eyes, an unearthly amber glow luring them to Death's open door. The smell of blood saturated the night air, sending the attackers into a desperate fright and the killer into controlled madness. Seeing that their deaths may be noble in battle than in flight, the three men came simultaneously in a swift and deadly formation but found their quarry missing as they came through the returning mist. From above the killer flew down to them, his sword cutting them through in one full sweep. Their cries of anguish were silenced by the sweet song of the steel katana wielded by a heartless man with eyes of fire. The city stirred not an inch as the killer returned his sword to its scabbard. He wiped the warm spatters of blood from his face and haori and returned to the shadows, eyes glowing in the silvery mist, leaving the bodies to rot in the midnight air. 


	2. Entrapment

A/N: For those of you who have read this before, this is a revision of the first chapter. I forgot a few details and so had to replace the one posted. Sorry 'bout that. Enjoy!  
  
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Chapter 1 - Entrapment  
  
Morning. In the eastern sector of Osaka, glowing in the emerging daylight was the estate of Lord Akoro Matsu, its white walls and dark cedar roof beautifully lit by the rising sun. Surrounding the mansion was a garden on all sides, alive with bonsai trees, blossoming sakura, and swaying green bamboo. Glistening waterfalls and pools of Koi created an air of peace and tranquility as the day began. Outside, servants and horsemen washed clothes and trained their Lord's finest steeds. Ladies floated through the polished and gleaming hallways, and the smell of the morning meal wafted into every room. Concealed in the morning hours within the illuminated Hall of Philosophy, two men conversed together while sipping drinks.  
  
"What has the daimyo been doing this past week?" spoke the voice of the younger of the two: Kaurousuke Anji, master of Matsukaze Kenbu-ryu swordsmanship.  
  
Kaurousuke was a finely built and good-looking man of thirty-seven years. He wore a simple dark green kimono and brown hakama, wrapped together in a black silk haori, emblazoned with the Matsu symbol upon the shoulder, the head of a white horse. His eyes were a deep and shining onyx, and his long black locks were tied high upon his head. His question had been aimed at the elder: Yamagata Cho, teacher and philosopher to the Matsu estate.  
  
Yamagata, an older man with pale wrinkled skin, white whiskers hanging from his upper lip. His hair, though thinned upon his brow, poured down his back like a river of hoary frost. Slightly narrowed eyes bore a countenance of utmost wisdom and knowledge. His garments were of a fine quality, pertaining to his rank among the vassals, a white kimono, with a black hakama and haori adorned with the Matsu symbol.  
  
The wise elder answered his young friend, "Matsu-sama will soon meet with a skilled swordsman, a ronin. He wants to hire him to defend the estate from his enemies."  
  
"I wonder who it'll be this time," Kaurousuke wondered, pouring sake into a tiny white dish. "With all of his samurai gone, Matsu has become desperate to defend himself. I do not know how much longer this will last."  
  
"I do not think we will need to worry so much now as before," Yamagata muttered, sipping warm tea from a porcelain cup.  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"Because, Matsu-sama has received word from a swordsman interested in being hired."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You will see soon enough," Yamagata laughed quietly.  
  
A rustle of silks alerted them to the presence of a wandering flower that often visited the Hall of Philosophy. Following the soft tapping on the wooden frames of the paper doors was a hand, smooth and light as a butterfly's wing, sliding it open. Sunlight flooded the room, as the angelic flower tiptoed inside and slowly kneeled to the straw-sewn tatami flooring. It was the daimyo's only daughter, Miss Toshiki Matsu. Her long kimono, painted with white sakura blossoms and violet butterflies, flowed out from her like a river of magic, sending an aura about her charming face. Her eyes sparkled like emerald gold, her hair, a glossy black stream, freshly combed and unaccompanied by any ornaments. Her picturesque features silenced the two men as she bowed respectfully to them, her forehead resting over her folded hands.  
  
"Lady Matsu seems to have arrived early," Yamagata smiled as he sipped the last drops of warm tea from his cup.  
  
"Are you certain she has come for your boring lectures on the origin of life," Kaurousuke laughed. "Or has she come to learn the ways of the sword?"  
  
Toshiki smiled silently as she rose and sat down next to the philosopher. "Sensei, I am ready for my lessons."  
  
"There will be no lessons today, little hana," Yamagata sighed. "Your father has commanded so."  
  
Toshiki grinned internally as she asked, "Why is this?"  
  
"Someone important is arriving soon," Yamagata replied. "Matsu-sama wishes that I assign you to your room to recite poetry."  
  
"Sensei, I have read those pages for as many times that I may count the stars at night. Please, may I be assigned a different task?" Toshiki asked, respectively bowing to her teacher.  
  
"All right then. I shall give you a riddle. 'What does the flower whisper when a white moon rises?' I will teach you nothing more until you give me the answer. Now, run along, little hana. I believe your nurse is calling you."  
  
Toshiki sighed as she heard the shrieking calls of her nurse Yousai, who had cared for her since her mother's passing. She rose to her feet to answer the call of the wrinkled hag whom she loved but wished would leave her be for a few moments. Toshiki floated out of the room as magically as she had entered, leaving the two men to talk of more important things.  
  
"I must admit, she is a beautiful girl," Kaurousuke remarked, sipping freshly poured sake.  
  
"Yes," Yamagata agreed. "But I fear it may lead to her own demise. With her being the only child of the daimyo, and a woman at that, the Matsu line may never live through this era."  
  
Kaurousuke lowered the silvery dish from his lips and hissed, "It appears this family is finally living up to its name-sake."  
  
~  
  
Someone important?  
  
Toshiki sat in her room, flipping through the hundred-page book of haiku poems, thinking over what her sensei had said. Why had no one informed me? In normal cases, my father would have had me parade before his honored guests like a flaunting peacock. This time, however, I have heard nothing. Still, for amusement, I will prepare myself for the occasion.  
  
Toshiki rose and floated over the tatami to her vanity, where a mirror, framed with jasper, sent back a perfect reflection of her flawless façade. She brought out her black comb and ran it through her silken locks. Toshiki enjoyed this time to herself. Normally, a high-ranking woman would have maids come and comb her hair and dress it formally. Toshiki however, preferred to do this herself, though it took longer and sometimes her hair would sit lopsided on her head. Over her sixteen-year lifetime, however, she had nearly perfected this technique. Within moments her midnight locks were wrapped neatly in a high bun, adorned with a glowing white rose and gold tassel, her full lips painted red as the fruit of the cherry tree. She dressed in one of her more formal kimonos, white linen bright with gold and flowing patterns of cranes dancing over her as if she were the symbol of the morning sky. She twirled in her silk robes and tugged at the collar so that the nape of her neck could be seen. Toshiki looked herself over in the mirror and was satisfied in knowing that if she could not go into the meeting hall, she could at least tease the men hanging about the mansion.  
  
Toshiki exited her room, glowing like a golden jewel, and glided down the hallways, silent as a whisper, out onto the balcony overlooking the bustling city. The flowering city of Osaka flourished in the bright radiance of the spring sunbeams. Blossoms of the enchanting sakura trees danced through the warm air; the streets were filled with busy shopkeepers, restaurants billowing with the smells of freshly cooked rice balls, tea and sake. Little children clambered about the cobblestone streets playing with streamers of bright red, white and purple silk in celebration of the returning spring.  
  
Toshiki wished she could be among them. Though she had known luxury for her entire life she longed to know what the outside world was like, what people who were poor experienced. She believed they were much happier. Leaning a hand upon the sill of the balcony, she sighed mournfully. The wind whistled through the tall koya-maki sending the whorled leaves dancing through the air.  
  
Taking in the beautiful world, Toshiki failed to notice a presence below. Her eyes trailed down the blue tiled rooftop to the crown of a man, standing on the steps exiting toward the bamboo garden. He was most intriguing. A river of scarlet ran from his head, through a knot of black silk and flowed down his straight back. His face was calm and fair, his eyes shutting out the noise of the world. Draped in the dark folds of his blue haori, he stood majestically, his white hakama swaying in a gentle breeze. His hands looked strong and at the same time gentle. Hanging on the sash of his hakama were two swords, a short wakizashi and a long katana blade, indicating he was a warrior. Toshiki could not veer her eyes from his captivating form. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly, wishing to escape and land on the flower of a man that lay before her.  
  
Suddenly, as if he could feel the weight of her stare, the man stirred and turned his gaze up toward her. His bright eyes, fierce and haunting, flashed amber in the sunlight. They glowed with an ethereal radiance, like the paralyzing eyes of a tiger ready to strike. Flushed, her breath caught in her throat at seeing his suddenly fearsome appearance. What she had thought to be an angel had suddenly turned into a beast, snarling from an unseen darkness. A deadly spirit that sank deep into her soul, choking her heart with a writhing pulse, had shadowed his tranquil countenance. It was as if by opening his eyes he was, in a manner, opening the gates of the underworld and sucking her in. His smooth right hand traveled from its quiet place by his side up to the leather-wrapped hilt of his long sword. The eyes narrowed and glared up at her, a raging inferno ablaze in his heart. Frightened beyond the senses, Toshiki whirled around and fled into the house. Pallid and shaking, she wiped the beads of anxious sweat from her brow and tried to calm her fleeting heart.  
  
Those eyes.she thought breathlessly. Those frightening, beautiful eyes. Who is that man?  
  
~  
  
The ronin returned his hand to his flank and heaved a sigh. With each affair he took on, there was always someone or something getting in his way of finishing it quickly. The young woman who had been spying on him from the window caused his heart to groan in annoyance. He had been traveling far during the past few days to familiarize himself with the city of Osaka. The times were becoming more and more agitated with each day's passing. The foundations of the Tokugawa shogunate were slowly rotting away. Samurai and peasants alike were revolting against both the Emperor and the Shogun. The whole country of Japan seemed to be writhing in pain of civil unrest and instability. It had been two years since he had left the shadow of his master but that was nothing to be sorry about. If he was going to make it through this endeavor and the even harder times ahead, he could have nothing, no one, tying him down.  
  
His meditation was broken as a frail servant, an old man with wrinkled skin and hands, humbly summoned the ronin into the meeting hall, trembling with every unsteady step. The ronin scowled at the insignificant attendant as he shuffled along the corridors. Maids and other young servants gasped at his presence, bowed fearfully and retreated into their rooms like mice scurrying from a cat.  
  
The conference hall was wide and spacious, nearly thirty tatami across. Seated on the left side was a young man with rice paper and inked brushes, awaiting the spoken words of his master. The other side presented the advisor and philosopher to the daimyo, Yamagata, sitting quietly by his master's side. In the center, settled upon a raised platform, was Lord Akoro Matsu, daimyo of Osaka and loyalist to the Emperor. He wore a splendid black haori and brown hakama, etched with the estate seal on the collar. His angular face, and wispy black mustache hairs, gave him the appearance of a cat as he sat proudly on his cushion and ushered in the swordsman with a wave of his hand. The old man who had led the ronin to the room vanished into the hallway. All eyes were upon the visitor as he strode inside and knelt down on a brightly colored floor mat. He respectfully removed his long sword from his belt sash and laid it on the floor beside him. Bowing slightly in added respect, he awaited the noble's greeting and proposal.  
  
"Welcome, honorable swordsman," Matsu half bowed to the bushi sitting before him. "It is a great honor that you have graced my mansion with your presence. Please allow me to offer the finest refreshments for you. Your journey here must have been long and tiring."  
A timid servant girl approached the swordsman with a tray of warmed sake and fat round rice balls, with ginger dipping sauce and sweetly boiled bamboo shoots. The ronin put up a hand to the maid and said bluntly, "Forgive my rudeness, Your Honor, but I must decline. Let us settle with business first, shall we?"  
  
Taken aback by the sudden refusal, Lord Matsu cleared his throat and sent the maidservant away. "Yes, well, you do look like a man who needn't be bothered by such trivialities." Matsu took a sip of sake, and took up a small roll of paper. "I have received this letter in response to my notice to hire skilled swordsman. You are the first I have received in many weeks. This riposte explains that you have no name to go by but are an exceptional swordsman, one to be rivaled. Well then, you are exactly the man I have been searching for."  
  
Matsu put away the scroll and prepared to state his predicament. "Since before the Bakumatsu began I have been plagued and ravaged by a rival daimyo whose allegiance is with the Tokugawa shogunate. He is called Kokkaido, and he has been warring for my land and my wealth with every force imaginable. He destroyed every last one of my samurai warriors and I have found no more to defend my estate. This information of your invincible swordsmanship has enlightened me. I will pay you by the day a handsome purse of one hundred yen, if you guard my estate from this wicked man and his agents. I will bestow upon you every luxury you ask for, the finest food and wine, the best lodging and most beautiful geisha in my estate, if you would do this for me. Will you accept my generous offer?"  
  
The ronin smiled internally at the daimyo's desperate character. Never had he even heard of an assassin being offer so much for one simple job. However, without hesitation, the ronin bowed courteously and said, "I accept."  
  
Lord Matsu's face glowed with pleasure as he bowed gratefully to the ronin. "Arigato-gozaimasu." Summoning a sweet-faced maid, Matsu instructed, "Lead the swordsman to his room and make sure he's comfortable."  
  
The ronin, bowing appreciatively, picked up his sword and departed from the meeting hall, following after the blushing, frightful girl. She tiptoed in front of him like a bird half-flying over the still water of a pond, nervous of the prowling predator lurking in the reeds. They arrived at a pair of ornamented paper doors that slid open to reveal a stately room, luxuriously furnished with polished black sandalwood tables and stools, bejeweled with mother-of-pearl. Midday sunshine flooded the walls through a window on the far side that overlooked the city of Osaka. A cherry tree shaded part of the room, its lovely pink flowers dancing in the summer breeze. The ronin, pleased at his quarters, thanked the girl and sent her off. She bowed nervously, shuffled out of the room and quietly shut the doors behind her.  
  
The swordsman placed his wakizashi and katana upon a sword stand, sat down in the center of the room facing the window, and shut his eyes, sinking into deep meditation to fortify his mind for whatever may lie ahead. Monotonous or not, it seemed that each task he took on became more serious than the last, and brought more danger than he ever assumed. This one might be no different. After a few moments his eyes opened, a blazing fiery power echoing from his soul.  
  
~  
  
Toshiki rose and paced to her window. She stared out into the garden, her heart trembling at the thought of him. Knowing not of the happenings going on in the mansion irritated her. She had to know who he was. Toshiki turned to the servant girl she had called from the hallway. The maid kept her eyes to the floor, waiting to be questioned.  
  
"Do you know anything about this man?" Toshiki pried from the servant girl. "Even if it is a little thing, tell me."  
  
"I do not know of this man, however, I have heard rumors of men like him, mistress," the maid whispered. "He is one of many terrible swordsman, leaving silent chaos in their wake. Living to kill, they know nothing of love or compassion. Many say they are mad. Of this one I am truly frightened. I believe that he's probably killed so many men that the blood spattering from their sword-slashed bodies, stained his hair scarlet!"  
  
Toshiki whirled around, eyes wide at such a statement. It was apparent what the young maid had said were exaggerations but still, they sent a chill down her spine. The long river of hair that ran down his back did look like blood spilling from his head, but that was only a fabrication. Toshiki requested one last thing from the trembling maid. "Do you know where the swordsman is staying?"  
  
"Hai, mistress. He rests in the state room."  
  
Lady Matsu stared through the paper walls until she reached the room on the far side of the upper part of the mansion. An appointed assassin was occupying the stateroom, quarters only presented to the highest official guests? It seemed strange that her father would provide such luxury to a man just hired off the street. However, though he seemed to be a crooked ronin, Toshiki was locked in his breathtaking stare and could not escape.  
  
She sent the little maid off and leaned an elbow on the windowsill. Watching the sunset in the western sky, she thought of the tiger spirit that dwelled there and wondered what the ronin might have seen in his travels. Though her teachers and her father had taught her many things, she still did not know of all the things happening throughout Japan. She longed to see the outside world, instead of being caged within the walls of her own home. Just to go into the city, only a few miles away, would bring such joy into her heart. Toshiki looked again through the paper walls and imagined the tall figure of the samurai sitting in the middle of the room holding his sword in his hand. His eyes, concealed by the darkness, suddenly illuminated from within, staring into her soul. She inhaled slowly at the thought of him. Can it be possible, she thought, to see into such a man's heart?  
  
~  
  
After refreshing herself in the bathhouse, Toshiki walked up the steps to return to her room. When she reached the top of the stairway something drew her to the end of the hallway, the stateroom. She could feel his presence lurking, creeping up slowly to devour her. She fled into her room and shut the doors. Fear was not something she was familiar with, however, his aura was overpowering in both dread and reverence. Yet, there was something in that man she could not ignore. Though her conscience told her to put it aside, her heart urged her forward.  
  
She clothed herself in a simple yukata, littered with butterflies and flower petals, combed her hair until it sparkled and went to meet with the ronin. The hallway seemed empty, deserted of all life, around the stateroom. A strange darkness hovered about the door, to dissuade any visitors. Toshiki felt it, but continued onward. Putting her smooth fingers on the sliding door she opened it slightly and peered inside. The room was vacant. Widening the entrance she stepped inside and looked around the room. It was decorated the same as always. The only thing different was the presence of two swords resting on their stand. Her eyes widened and a yelp caught in her throat as she turned around. Standing in the once barren doorway was the magnificent warrior, tall and sleek, his long red hair glowing in the sunlight that was streaming thought the open window. Amber jewels stared down at her with an air of superiority and confidence. Overwhelmed, she collapsed to the floor before him, nearly prostrate on the tatami.  
  
He stepped toward her and hissed, "Who are you?"  
  
Trembling beneath his shadow she replied, "Gomenasai, bushi-sama. I." Her eyes lifted and she stared into his breathtaking gaze. "I only wished.to."  
  
"To get yourself killed?"  
  
Toshiki's eyes flickered in emerald gold at the blunt and threatening statement. The ronin slid across the room and approached his sleeping blades. Toshiki's eyes followed his every movement, anxious to find the words to say to him, fearful and yet hopeful of his reaction. The swordsman picked up his katana and caressed its smooth hilt.  
  
"You should know better, than to be interested in strange swordsman." Irritated at her company, the ronin sighed and said, "Go back to your room, foolish girl. There is nothing for you to be curious about." The swordsman walked toward her, blade in hand, forcing her outside with his piercing stare. He watched her rush to her room on the far end of the hallway, then, nonchalantly, closed the doors. 


	3. The Hitokiri

A/N: Here's where things get interesting. Beware, there is a bit of violence in this chapter.  
  
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Chapter 2 - The Hitokiri  
  
Night came quickly, the moon, slightly chewed by the black sky, loomed overhead, lighting the many rooftops littering the land. Everyone was, in all likelihood, asleep, for the hour was late and the moon high in the velvet heavens.except one. Toshiki lay awake beneath her silken futon, staring out the window at the glowing sphere above. She had left her window lattice open for the night was warm and the cold night breezes had abated. The call of the nightingale sounded through the calm night, and the young lady sighed in peaceful delight. However, sleep had failed to come upon her. The presence of the mysterious stranger kept her eyes wide open and her heart pounding. Her soul ached to see him again, to stare into the eyes of the nocturnal predator lying in wait down the hall.  
  
Before she could think to do anything else, footsteps, light as a whisper upon the wooden floors, sounded from down the hall, a slight creaking of a door shutting, a shadow playing upon the walls outside her room. The silhouette was familiar and striking, the profile sharp and divine, a black river pouring into the night. The ronin.  
  
At once she rose to follow him, draping a house robe over her bare shoulders, tying it quickly and sliding open the koushido. Toshiki watched his ghostly form slip silently down the hall and out of sight. Quiet as a mouse, Toshiki crept after him, slowly rounding the bend with the corner of her eye. The swordsman had disappeared down the steps to the first floor and was probably walking around outside, beginning his guard duties. Nervously she bit at one of her fingernails as she contemplated his reaction if he were to catch her trailing him. Nevertheless, the hope of staring into his eyes, even if it were the last thing she would see, spurred her onward.  
  
The night air was thick and humid; beads of sweat slowly began forming on her brow as she stepped out onto the outer walkways, striving to stay hidden from the moonlight. The swordsman stood a few meters away in the middle of the garden, beneath the swaying bamboo. His gentle hands stroked the blushing faces of the Chinese roses and the tender shoots of young sugi, silently reflecting upon the beauty of the earth.  
  
His hand traveled from the flowering splendor to the bite of cold steel, the long katana upon his sash, serenely hidden within its sheath. After a brief moment of thought he drew its awing length at such an astonishing speed that the blade was not visible. Only a flash of the moonlight reflecting upon its sharpened edge told of its moment of glory in the stifling air. In an instant, he returned it to its place and took a seat upon a stone, listening quietly to the gentle trickling of the waterfalls, and the clicking and creaking of the bamboo.  
  
Toshiki watched in horror as five stalks of cane, still swaying in the night air, suddenly cracked and fell on either side of the swordsman, cleanly cut by his powerful blade. Impossible! Toshiki gasped. I did not even see the sword drawn and yet it cut down the thick bamboo as if it were paper! This man is dangerous! I should not be out here watching him!  
  
As she went to return into the house, a final glance saw that the swordsman had disappeared. Curious, Toshiki slowly ventured out toward the bamboo, wondering where to he had suddenly rushed off. She stroked the freshly cut stalks, warm sap sticking onto her fingers. Her heart trembled at the speed of his blade, and the anxious longing for it to come again. Though his strike had been swift and fear inspiring, it evoked within her a reverential awe. She gazed at the moon through the swaying trunks and thin leaves and bid the night farewell. When she turned, she was met with a horrifying shadow.  
  
Swiftly it came at her, silencing her scream, backing her against the thickening foliage with the silvery razor edge of a sword. Toshiki's emerald orbs flickered as she realized her throat had not been slashed. Another blade had blocked the attack so swiftly neither victim nor foe detected it. Toshiki felt warm breath on her shoulder and the presence of strength undeniably powerful. A hand, smooth and white, gripped the hilt and threw the enemy sword to the ground. The assailant backed away in horror as the presence drew out from the shadows and halted beside the young woman. Toshiki gasped as she recognized the silhouette of the strange scarlet-haired swordsman, his eyes glowing fiercely in the darkness. "Who sent you?" the ronin hissed.  
  
The lackey trembled at his voice and croaked, "My master, L-Lord Kokkaido."  
  
"Are there others?"  
  
"No."  
  
A wicked smile played across the ronin's face. Calmly, the scarlet swordsman returned his weapon to its place and stood at an angle. Toshiki did not understand why he had dropped his guard so quickly. The man was armed and dangerous, without his sword how could the ronin fight? The stranger took his chance and rushed in for the final blow, raising his sword to strike the ronin. In an instant, almost invisibly, the ronin drew his sword from its sheath with god-like speed. Moments later the man lay dead upon the ground, warm blood spilling out from his decapitated form. Toshiki gasped at the sight of it. The ronin strode over to the corpse, picked up the bloody head, the expression frozen with horror, and tossed it into the bamboo. "Here's my reply to your master!"  
  
Toshiki, puzzled at his utterance to the darkness, thought, perhaps the rumors were correct. Maybe he truly is mad!  
  
Those words were put aside when she noticed a hand reach out through the bamboo, grab the head and, among other shadows, rush off into the night. The ronin flicked the dripping blood off his sword and returned it to its place. His fiery stare caught her in the darkness and she gasped slightly at the sight of him. This man was not who she thought him to be. He was a hitokiri, mad as a moon dog and thirsty for blood.  
  
He stepped toward her and said, "I told you there was nothing for you to be curious about."  
  
Toshiki could not speak a word; only stare frightfully at the terrible swordsman standing before her. She trembled uncontrollably, her breathing shallow, her heart skipping in an erratic rhythm. The entire area was thick with blood; a crude stench of death filled the air. The sight of it sickened her. Her mind could not take it all in. Darkness closed around her and the last thing she saw were his violent amber eyes, glimmering in the shadows.  
  
~  
  
The girl fell silently through the night air, her velvet hair swirling about her. The swordsman knelt down and quickly broke her fall, her limp form sliding into an awkward embrace. He held her there for a moment, drawing her dark bangs from off her face. With wide eyes he recognized the visage of the young lady he had seen on the balcony, and who had visited his quarters unannounced. A sigh escaped his lips. Who does this girl think she is? The ronin thought. Following swordsman in the middle of the night. Curiosity like that can get her killed! She looks old enough to have enough sense to understand the danger of these times: wild ronin and bloodthirsty rebels hovering about the city at night. This is unfortunate. She is becoming a distraction. No matter, distractions can be ignored. Gently, the ronin picked her up from the blood-drenched ground and carried her into the house. Suddenly, loud footsteps rapped the wooden walkway outside. The swordsman prepared to draw his sword as a man, sword in hand, came rushing around the corner. "What's happened?"  
  
"Who are you?" the hitokiri hissed.  
  
"I am Kaurousuke, teacher of Matsukaze swordsmanship at this estate." Suddenly stunned at the bloody form in his arms he barked, "What have you done to her?"  
  
"You needn't be concerned. The girl is unharmed. Take her to the maids to be cleaned up." The ronin shoved the girl into the Kaurousuke's arms and turned gracefully to slip back into the shadows. Angered at the hired man's arrogance, the sword master grumbled, "Be glad your reputation proceeds you, or else I would have slain you right here for revealing yourself to the daughter of the daimyo."  
  
The soft footfalls stopped as the hitokiri took in the teacher's words. "I was not informed of her identity. I took her as merely a curious maid scampering about."  
  
"Then be sure you keep this in mind. Lord Matsu wishes her no knowledge of you. Stay away from her, if you value your life, kisama akage kozou."  
  
The scarlet swordsman glared at him with much fire. "If you value yours, you will refrain from insulting a hitokiri in the future," he growled and returned to his post. Kaurousuke snarled at the receding shadow and carried the girl up the stairs. He looked down; suddenly feeling her body tremble in disturbed slumber. A word escaped her tender lips, one full of horror and dread: "Akai." 


	4. Like A Moth to the Flame

A/N: Here's chapter 3. This is more of a lull in the story where Toshiki reflects upon the things that have happened. Don't worry, there's more to come.  
  
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Chapter 3 - Like a Moth to the Flame  
  
Morning light fell through the open window and danced upon Toshiki's face. She found herself safely tucked into her futon, dressed in clean white robes, a cup of warm tea beside her. Her mind was a blur as to the happenings of the previous night. Had it all been a dream? Her heart demanded she not deny it. Flashes of violence and carnage raced through her thoughts, a man with a glinting silver sword, a river of blood, the swordsman.it had all been real. The stranger was without a doubt, not only a skilled swordsman, but a hitokiri, a man who slayed other men for money or pleasure. How could I have been so blind? She wept. How could I have been so foolish?  
  
She cursed under her breath at the mistake she had made in her assumptions about that man. Although it was her fault for sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night after a manslayer, and for putting herself in such danger, no matter how much she tried to deny it, she could not bring herself to forget his awing presence: the glow of his eyes and the soul fact that he protected her from the blade of the shadowy attacker. He could have easily done away with her for being a witness, however, because he had not done so, she felt relieved. She wiped the tears of terror from her eyes and embraced her original assumptions. Every swordsman, whether good or bad, contains a heart within. I will stop at nothing until I reach his.  
  
It was now mid-morning. Toshiki rose and dressed in her uniform to meet with her master, Kaurousuke. A dark-green kimono and brown hakama were the trademark garments of the Matsukaze Kenbu swordsmanship style and had been for the past three generations. Master Kaurousuke had been among the Mastu clan for twenty years and chose Toshiki to be his successor, for he never married and had no children of his own. Toshiki had always respected him for his kindness and faith in her abilities.  
  
Toshiki smiled as she looked upon herself in the mirror. The uniform reminded her of the mysterious swordsman wandering about the mansion. She imitated his amazing sword-drawing skills, pretending to hold a long katana to her side then drawing it quickly out into the air. She wondered how it was accomplished, what style he knew and where he learned it. Most of all she wished to know his name. So many questions flooded her mind that she would have to see him again and ask him, yet, considering his coldness; she feared he would not enjoy her company again. It was said that swordsman of his occupation were more inclined to do harm at night than during the day. Toshiki decided to see him later on, so as not to evoke his wrath. She would practice her own swordsmanship before confronting the ronin again.  
  
Toshiki left her room and walked down the steps, heading for the Dojo on the other side of the mansion. Caution had to be a key if she were to avoid the looming shadow of the red-haired swordsman. He could be lurking in the shade somewhere, like a tiger in the brush, aiming to attack unsuspecting prey. Carefully, she glanced around each corner, hoping not to see his tall straight back adorned in sleek wisps of red hair. At last she reached the Dojo, safely out of harms way, with no sign of the swordsman anywhere. After straightening a few frayed strands of her black locks, she breathed softly and entered.  
  
Master Kaurousuke was sitting upon the raised platform at the back of the Dojo, quietly polishing his gleaming sword. Rarely had Toshiki seen the great blade her master owned and rarely did she ever see him use it. Master Kaurousuke only used cloth-covered short swords within the Dojo She straightened her back, removed her sandals, and stepped inside. Toshiki approached the platform and bowed to her master.  
  
"You are early, little hana. I was not expecting you to come until this afternoon." Kaurousuke stated, calmly returning the gleaming sword to its sheath.  
  
"I apologize, Master. I did not mean to intrude. Would you please grant your apprentice an early lesson?" Toshiki requested courteously.  
  
"Of course," Kaurousuke smiled, rising to his feet and walking over to the sword rack hanging upon the far wall. "Hurry now and retrieve the nagata."  
  
Toshiki bowed once more and rushed to the opposite wall. Placed regally upon its own rack was the long handled nagata blade, an extended spear-like weapon used mainly by female warriors. It was large and heavy as she held it in her grasp but the training she received from her master had conditioned her body to harness its might. Poised at one end of the Dojo she waited for her master's signal to start. Kaurousuke, holding a short sword, turned to face her. They bowed simultaneously and took their positions. Toshiki stood tall holding the staff outward with the cloth- wrapped blade pointed straight at her target. She kept her eyes on the wakizashi her master held at ready. In a flash he leapt across the smooth wooden floor and aimed his sword at her side. Toshiki blocked it with a simple turn of the handle and swung the nagata downward. Kaurousuke saw the blade coming for his head, dodged it, swirled around and caught her around the neck from behind.  
  
"You left yourself open," he scolded. "We will start again."  
  
Toshiki sighed as he released her and went back to his original position. If she was going to confront the strange swordsman she had to learn to put up more of a defense. It started again just as quickly as before only this time Toshiki held the staff out horizontally.  
  
"A wise choice. You have widened your defense and blocked your opponent from making any moves to the left or right. However, you are unguarded in the front. Lower your hands a little more so that you will not be attacked through your chest or abdomen. Use the staff as a shield."  
  
Toshiki did as she was told and immediately he came toward her, drawing the wakizashi from its sheath and striking the staff. Toshiki felt the blow resonate through her arms, piercing through her shoulders and back. She held her ground and swung the staff over in a great arch, forcing him into the ground in one swift movement.  
  
Kaurousuke had blocked the full force of it with his wakizashi but was inches away from the foot-long nagata. He smiled at her and said, "Much better. Now you have a slight advantage. If I move, the weight of the blade will strike me down, and even if I escaped you are too far away for me to strike quickly, however." Kaurousuke knocked the staff aside with his foot and escaped the grasp of the blade. Toshiki nearly lost her balance finding that she accidentally was holding the staff very far from the center. There was too much length to maneuver it efficiently. Again her master had her by the throat, only this time from the front. "You are improving, child, but you still have much to learn."  
  
Half an hour passed and by this time Toshiki was out of breath and exhausted but she insisted to go on, wishing to practice even more and build up her strength. If I cannot even faze my master, how will I be able to stand up to that swordsman if he decides to turn on me? I have to keep going. Otherwise, I will never be able to face him again.  
  
Toshiki yelled out a power-building shout as she swung her staff widely to the left to catch Kaurousuke in the back and send him flying. He saw it coming and retaliated, leaping over the swinging rod and landing a strike on her shoulder. The wakizashi was wrapped but the power of his strike sent pain shooting down her side. She collapsed and the great nagata fell.  
  
Kaurousuke knelt beside her and said, "Are you sure you wish to keep going? Your father will not be pleased if he found out you pushed yourself too hard."  
  
"I do not care what he thinks. I am not afraid!" Toshiki grasped the nagata and stood tall, determined to keep fighting.  
  
"I did not say you were, Miss Toshiki. Your endurance and strength has improved since your last lesson. Its almost as if there is a fighting spirit behind you, something pushing you to go on. Has something come into the light that still remains hidden?"  
  
"Now you are giving me riddles. I'm sorry, but I cannot answer that. My mind is still plagued with the one Yamagata-sensei gave me."  
  
"In that case I will not ask. That is all I will teach you today. Go and bathe in the hot springs. You look terrible."  
  
"Master, you need not be so rude."  
  
"Perhaps I have begun to view you more as a man than a woman, the way you fight your battles and stand up to challenges not befitting a lady."  
  
"It is how I was taught," Toshiki smiled.  
  
"So, you're saying you've favored my sword skills over Yamagata's poetry? You really are more like a man than I expected."  
  
"If you feel that way, then I will ask you this," Toshiki spoke softly at her master's side. "Tell me, Master, who is the strange swordsman that has come to the mansion?"  
  
Kaurousuke frowned and growled, "You mean the one whose fight you witnessed last night?"  
  
Toshiki's heart quickened. How does he know this? No one else was awake when it happened!  
  
After a moment of silence the teacher continued, "I know nothing of this man, and neither should you. Leave the matter alone. He is merely a hired guard for the estate. Do not interfere with his affairs. It is too dangerous and if your father discovered your awareness of him, I'm sure he would not be pleased."  
  
Flustered, Toshiki bowed to Kaurousuke and left the Dojo, placing the great staff back into its sill. Sighing, she walked into the garden and stood before the Koi pond, staring at the golden fishes. Master is wrong. If he will not tell me, then I will have to find my own answers. Though that ronin is dangerous I can't help but feel drawn to him somehow, like a moth to a flame, seeking to touch the fire of destiny that may hold the key to my future, or my demise. Either way, I must see him again; at least to really know what is happening beyond these stonewalls that hold me prisoner.  
  
With renewed determination, Toshiki turned from the diamond reflections and golden watery creatures and retired into the house. 


	5. The Bakumatsu

A/N:  
  
The name "Akai" is the word in Japanese that means "red."  
  
Here's a teaser poem I wrote that fits this chapter and has the same title:  
  
Upon the ancient islands of Japan  
There rose a war full of chaos and fear  
Spawned forth from an unknowing atmosphere  
Born to a world ruled under one clan  
  
Ominous clouds of change loomed overhead  
  
As the West approached swift as a typhoon  
Kin against kin, they fought beneath the moon  
For and against the coming hope and dread  
Shogun and Emperor, along each side  
Men and women fought for what they believed  
And perished by sword or gun, to achieve  
Victory, for which they war glorified  
See! One youth's beginning and one man's end  
Wounds are still bleeding, but in time, they mend  
  
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Chapter 4 - The Bakumatsu  
  
The Matsu estate was deafeningly quiet as evening settled down upon the city. The silence was broken by a nightingale, which began a sweet melody for the hearts of whomever may hear. The ronin, leaning tranquilly upon the windowsill, listened to her song. He watched the golden bird sing full-throated to the twilight, a mournfully melodious sound that pleased his ear and soothed his thoughts. Then, just as swiftly and beautifully as it had began, the song ended and the bird alighted upon the night wind, flying into the distance. The ronin watched its glorious flight until it disappeared into the bamboo forest beyond.  
  
The swordsman wondered at his appreciation of the nightingale's song. During these hard times it was a rare thing to be blessed with such a blissful moment. The wars raging throughout the country drowned out any song of happiness from bird, or child, filling all with horror and dread. He was grateful he was, for the time being, away from the war-ragged streets of Kyoto. This place was much more peaceful, despite it being under threat. Closing his eyes, he relished in the quiet, until the soft sound of footprints rang in his alert ears.  
  
Picking his head up, he heard the footfalls sound along the outside hallway, stopping at the crack of the sliding paper doors. A small knock rapped on the framework and a shy voice spoke, "I have brought your evening meal, bushi-sama."  
  
"You may enter," the ronin replied.  
  
Delicate hands reached through the crack and slowly slid open the doors. Head low, the maid brought in a tray of hot beef stew, freshly steamed vegetables and a flagon of warmed sake, served in clean and sparkling blue and white dishes and a pair of ivory chopsticks. The ronin watched her carefully bring the tray into the room, kneel gently and close the doors. She brought the tray to him, placed it on the black wood table before him and bowed respectfully. Then, elegantly, she poured him a cup of sake, which he drank silently. The girl's face had not been revealed, for the sun had set and no lamps had been lit in the room thus far. As a maid should, she asked, "Would my lord wish for light?"  
  
The ronin nodded, and took another sip of the potent drink. As the warm glow of fire slowly penetrated the darkness, the girl's face lit up like the sun. Her eyes a bright emerald green, sparkled as the jewels of Persia from behind a curtain of midnight lashes. Her black hair flowed down over her shoulders like a river of onyx stone, her hands trembling like white doves upon the bough. Dressed in a glorious white kimono that sprung forth in golden light, flowers blooming in the vein of bright flaxen jewels, and silken cranes. The swordsman's left eyebrow twitched slightly and he immediately lowered the sake cup. He held back an exasperated sigh as he recognized the girl who had been following him for the past two days and had not heeded any warning given her.  
  
"Is there something wrong?" the girl asked, tentatively.  
  
"You were advised to absent yourself from my company and yet you still pursue it. You truly are a foolish girl. Go back to your poetry and music, you need not follow in the shadow of a killer."  
  
The girl shifted slightly, but did not sway from his side. "Gomenasai, but I must refuse to comply with that."  
  
The ronin could not hide his sigh. This was proving to be difficult. He replied slowly, "Why is this?"  
  
"Because," the girl stuttered, staring into his eyes like a frightened child. "I have some questions I wish to ask of you."  
  
"Such as?" the ronin, intrigued at her excuse, picked up the rice bowl and chopsticks and began eating.  
  
As if relieved by the sudden break in tension, the girl bowed slightly and said, "Bushi-sama, I wish to know what is happening in this country. I have been hidden from the world and have longed for the day when I could see its splendor and diversity. I would be honored if you would tell me what it is like out there."  
  
The ronin paused in mid-bite and looked her straight in the eye. He placed the porcelain bowl back onto the tray and asked gravely, "Are you sure you wish to know?"  
  
The girl nodded eagerly, awaiting the answers she sought. The ronin sighed once more at her persistence and voted against it. "I do not believe you will receive any information from me. I have been instructed not to be in your company and think it best that you put your questions aside form more important matters. What's more, after what you witnessed last night, I do not believe you would enjoy hearing what I have to say."  
  
The girl frowned somewhat and retaliated. "I am not a child. You need not consider the possibility of innocence."  
  
"You contradict yourself," the swordsman murmured, eyes aflame. "You are innocent. Why else would you have fainted dead before a manslayer?"  
  
The girl, with baited-breath, stared into his eyes but did not waver. "I have made a request of you. Shall you be silent before the daughter of a daimyo? Will you disregard the query of a lady? If this is so, you are not a swordsman.but a ruffian, unworthy to even look at a sword."  
  
Enraged at her impudence, the ronin quickly seized his katana, drew it from its silk-lined sheath, to her delicate neck, the edge gleaming, anxious to taste her blood. Toshiki flinched slightly but her gaze remained locked in his frightful stare. Her eyes sparkled in the firelight, streams of gold running through her emerald orbs, a bold spirit reflecting into him. The swordsman's hand quavered, unable to move the blade any closer. In the past no creature had the power to hold the weight of his stare. Most gave in to his fearful gaze and thus perished. However, this girl, this pestering girl, who already caught his stare and remained there long enough to make him feel uncomfortable, what's more stayed his hand. Not one soul in all his years of being a manslayer stayed his hand for even a moment, but this young woman accomplished something that no one else could do. By no means could he put her life to an end if she was fearless enough to follow a manslayer into the night and not scream at the sight of his sword.  
  
The katana fell from its deadly position and returned to the sheath unsatisfied. "Very well," he sighed. "You've won my confidence. I will give you this one meeting. Afterward, should you come to me again, I may not be so kind."  
  
The girl smiled impishly at her victory, which dismayed the ronin even more. He took his empty sake dish, which the girl promptly filled. Before he began, the ronin eyed the girl curiously and said, "Shall I speak to a nameless lady?"  
  
"My name is Toshiki," the girl beamed. "Shall I listen to a nameless swordsman?"  
  
"Call me what you wish," he said.  
  
Toshiki thought carefully, eyeing the regal swordsman with a cool serenity. Her eyes trailed the river of scarlet streaming from his head and whispered, "Akai."  
  
The swordsman's eyes lit up at the word. "What did you say?"  
  
"I will call you Akai, for never before have I seen a man with hair of crimson."  
  
The ronin, amused, took another sip of sake, cleared his throat and prepared to relay the happenings of Japan.  
  
"For two hundred years one clan has had control over the whole of the country, the Tokugawa shogunate. Recently, however, the shogun has been ruling poorly and because of this, certain daimyo have begun to revolt against him. The reasons for this revolt are many, but mainly it is because of an outside threat. Looming on the horizon are the western nations armed with guns, black ships and talk of trade. In normal cases, Japan would have stayed hidden from such influences. However, thirteen years ago a treaty was signed, allowing these westerners to enter the country and spread their foreign political disease. An influential daimyo, Lord Choshu, founded the policy, 'Revere the Emperor, Repel the Barbarians!' He saw the Shogun's inability to keep out the western foreigners and wished for the Emperor to rule in his place. He has gathered many men to fight for this idea, using great force against the shogunate. Because of this revolt, the Shogun has sent a police force to protect his main place of operation, the city of Kyoto. This revolution is taking place now, as we speak. Both sides are fighting many battles, the streets running red with blood every night. It is an internal war of the greatest magnitude ever seen in this country and it has been happening for the past seven years. This is a time where chaos runs wild and many people are suffering because of it. Be glad that you now remain secluded within these walls, for the time may soon come when the threat of war and bloodshed will come upon you."  
  
Toshiki, stunned at hearing of such horrors, brimmed tears in her eyes. The ronin knew that she was unable to comprehend the seriousness of his words, and only watched as she held back the sorrow flooding her heart. Composing herself with a deep breath, she bowed to the ronin and said, "Arigato gozaimasu."  
  
The swordsman, taking another sip of sake, eyed her dangerously and said, "Are you satisfied?"  
  
Toshiki stared at him sadly, her eyes sparkling with starlight, and nodded solemnly. She bowed gratefully and left the room, her silken footsteps sounding down the hallway. Now alone in the flickering light, the ronin sighed, sipped down the last drops of rice wine and whispered, "Foolish girl." 


	6. Cherry Blossoms

A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter so far. Here Toshiki and Battousai's love begins to blossom. Hope you like it.  
  
PLEASE SEND ME REVIEWS!  
  
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Chapter 5 – Cherry Blossoms  
  
The night was cold and frightening, the moon glowing red in a foreboding ambience. Shadows danced in the midnight air, leaping through the mansion, those sleeping, dead within moments. The smell of blood permeated through the hallways and stained the perfumed walls. Shouts of terror and anguish echoed into the latticework and trickled off the dew-covered bonsai. Fear overflowed in her like water in a rain-filled cistern, overpowering sense and will. The menacing silhouettes, gleaming silver daggers ready, approached with the stealth of wolves. Their eyes glowed scarlet with the moonlight as the bloodstained steel rose higher and higher, like a comet racing across the sky. Silently struck the fatal blow, a river of scarlet life pouring out onto the floor, and the shadows vanished. Fading crimson moonlight mixed in with the dark pools of blood surrounding her. 'Akai...' she whispered. 'Where are you?' There was no reply, only darkness and silence that deafened and tormented her soul. Loneliness wrung every ounce of life out of her until there was nothing left but the sound of fire crackling across the walls, the final screams of those being cut off from the flower of life and the aura of hatred that spread across the land. 'Is this war? Is this what it will be like?' But her questions went unanswered as the doors of demise closed in around her, confining her within the dark boundaries of eternal sleep.  
  
Toshiki slowly awoke from her nightmare, cold and alone, the wind whipping through the cherry trees outside. Her heart throbbed loudly in her ears, thick salty tears flowing freely from her emerald eyes. Though her dreams were but the spawn of her own doubts and fears she could not help but feel that what she imagined might be real someday. Falling by the edge of a sword, unable to fight against the terrible things closing in upon everything she ever cared for. How could she stand by and idly watch as her world crumbled into dust? Yet, fear clutched tightly about her heart, as to the pleasure of her father and those around her if they knew of her revelation. Once they discovered the source of this knowledge that had come upon her, surely the scarlet swordsman, whom she called Akai, would vanish forever into the depths of battle and never be seen again. This was something she could not afford and so with laden heart sustained with an amber dream, Toshiki dressed and attended the morning meal.  
  
~  
  
Akoro Matsu, serenely dining before a black lacquered table, addressed his daughter who had been silent as the bamboo on a windless night. "My flower, I have not seen your face for a full two nights. Is there something troubling you?"  
  
Toshiki trembled slightly, making a few plump grains of rice fall onto her lap. She raised her eyes slowly and said, "It's nothing, Otousan. My mind has merely been plagued by one of Yamagata-sensei's silly riddles. Gomenasai, if my absence has displeased you."  
  
"Nonsense, my dear girl," Akoro-sama motioned for his daughter to sit by him. "You have not displeased me, only worried me slightly. I was concerned for your safety."  
  
Toshiki nestled down into her father's great embrace and replied, "My safety?"  
  
"Yes. Unbeknownst to you, my daughter, there was an attack on the estate two nights ago by Kokkaido's men. You need not worry though, for I have hired a skilled swordsman to protect us. However, I must ask this of you. Do not try one your little schemes on him, my girl, for he is a mysterious one. He does his job well, but I will not have you mingle with a possible ruffian. Am I clear, little hana?"  
  
"Hai, Otousan," Toshiki smiled, shivering internally as the scenes of darkness, silver steel and blood that raced through her mind and the endearing amber eyes of the mysterious swordsman. It was too much to bear up. She left her father's embrace and rose to leave. "I'm late for my lesson with Master Kaurousuke. Excuse me." Toshiki flinched within at her lie, but could not bear to live another day knowing her father was so naïve. Eager for relief from the self-inflicted curse of anguished fear, she marched down the hallway toward the stateroom. Her plans were halted however by a voice from behind her, that of the scarlet ronin, Akai.  
  
"Still eager to pry are you?" he asked softly, a bitter smile etched into his every word.  
  
Toshiki did not reply right away for fear the servants, or her nurse, would hear her speaking to him. She turned toward him but remained silent in the glowing hallway, glancing only slightly into his eyes.  
  
"What? Now you find the sense to remain silent? You had me believing you possessed so much stubbornness that you would go so far as to risk your life to speak to someone forbidden to view or converse with. Yet, here you are, standing before me as a tree, silent as the wind."  
  
"You mock me, Akai," Toshiki frowned. "Please don't, for I have every intention of being that stubborn girl you take me for."  
  
"Do you now? And what good will that bring you?" his voice grew harsh. "I do not see why you keep pursuing danger like this. What is it that you want?"  
  
Toshiki, fearful of their voices carrying, grasped his hand and pulled him into the stateroom. Once inside she gazed at him bravely and replied, "What I want cannot be said. What I wish cannot be explained. All I know is that I simply cannot go on walking down a path of darkness. Tell me what I wish to know. Tell me. Is war really as terrible as one can dream it to be? Is it truly full of hatred and bloodshed? Tell me, is that what you've seen? Is that what you see everyday and face every night? Please, do not hide the truth from me."  
  
Akai sighed heavily and said, "You bring this upon yourself. Why do you seek out something you can never understand? If you were meant to know all of this I believe your father would have already told you!"  
  
"My father is a coward and a fool! Don't you think I have already tried to gain knowledge of the outside world from everyone under the roof of this mansion? No one will tell me! No one will relieve me of this pain I feel of not knowing what is happening. The only one I have left is you, Akai! I have no where else to turn."  
  
Enraged at her idiocy, Akai glared at her and hissed, "You truly are a fool. Trusting in a man who carries a sword is stupidity in its highest form, especially for a woman like yourself, the daughter of a daimyo and heir to an entire estate. You are being selfish and arrogant in your endeavors! How can you be so blind to the truth? There is too much danger in what you are trying to do! You could end up killed!"  
  
Toshiki replied coldly, "By your hand?"  
  
The swordsman, struck silent by her words, was unable to reply.  
  
Toshiki took this as a good time to retreat from his company, leaving him saying, "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. However I will say this, I do not believe what you say of yourself is true, that you have no compassion or kindness. And you can rest assured that I will continue to follow in your shadow until my belief is proven."  
  
Akai watched as Toshiki left the room and floated down the hallway until she vanished from sight.  
  
~  
  
Four days had passed and still Toshiki waited for an answer. Akai had not said a word to her since that day, but merely remained at his post, silent and still. Toshiki dare not speak to him until he found it was all right to reveal himself to her. She feared, however, that he would be gone long before that day ever came.  
  
To suppress her disappointment, Toshiki went out into the garden to visit the blossoming cherry trees and watch the blossoms fall. Like tiny dancers upon the wind they swirled about her, their fragrance soothing all her worries. She had always loved the spring time when the sakura would fill the whole mansion with pink and white glory, spreading the joy of the new year into the hearts of all. She took from her sleeve, a tiny flute and played a song of the sakura, melody spawn from her very soul, which echoed across the garden and into the ears of the ronin. Through the corner of her eye she glanced at him and smiled internally as she saw his eyes soften as the melody calmed his spirit. She wondered how often he was blessed with hearing the sweet sound of music, the laughter of children, or the delightful bliss of love. As she played she eyed him from head to toe and found herself more drawn to him that ever before. No longer did she see the danger, no longer the hatred and rage, only a man with a good heart and a love for all things.  
  
Toshiki could not deny it. She had fallen in love with a hitokiri. She could not ignore the fluttering of her heart each time her eyes met his fierce gaze, her pupils trailing the silken river of scarlet pouring from his head. Flushed, she ceased her music and imagined his strong hands enveloping her and madly pulling her toward him. There was no power within her to resist, and yet it seemed it was all a dream. He caught her gaze from afar only to turn away. Toshiki was saddened by his isolation. His soul was shut up so deep within a stone heart; it seemed as unbreakable as the barriers against the sea. No matter how hard the waves of kindness crashed over him, nothing would soften it. However strong his resolve to ignore her was, she could not be deterred. For her entire life she was given everything, but now, she sought something she was forced to earn, the heart of a callous manslayer. She was not dispirited by it for just as a seawall is eroded over time, so his heart would melt with kindness.  
  
Toshiki smiled softly and approached him from behind. The scent of sakura blossoms tinged her presence and she came to stand beside him overlooking the Koi pond and the bamboo. Her eyes lifted up to the heavens and she watched a hawk fly over the mansion. Its wings outspread with a glorious presence, soaring upon the wind, free from worry or dread. She looked to see that Akai had spotted the graceful bird and was too basking in its splendor. His eyes softened as he turned away from the heights and looked at her. For a moment the amber light dimmed to a lulled amethyst, a kind expression flooding his face. Toshiki marveled at this, honored to finally see a glimpse into the man within him, only to see it fade as he turned away from her and disappeared into the house. Toshiki, though saddened by his continuing avoidance, was pleased to see that, slowly but surely, the walls were coming down.  
  
~  
  
Twilight settled upon the Matsu estate and a fog crept in and laid low upon the city. Toshiki watched from her window as the night clouds surrounded the house, creating a dreary heaven around her. She wrapped a long quilted kimono about her shoulders to shield her from the cold. Thinking of the swordsman, she worried that the chilly air might plague him and so brought out a long shawl from her closet. Quietly she tiptoed down the hallway to the stateroom. Hoping he had not gone out to his post, Toshiki slid open the doors and peered inside. There, leaning upon the sill of the window, was Akai, resting peacefully in the cool night air, his long locks released from their dark binding, his delicate shoulder exposed from the shroud of his kimono. She approached him slowly, careful not to wake him, and went to drape the shawl over his graceful form. As the silk brushed against his smooth neck, he suddenly awoke with a start and drew the sword that had been resting beside him. The cold metal came so close to her throat that she could feel its razor edge caress her skin. His eyes were full of hatred, a killer's spirit, the hitokiri awakened from the depths of the underworld to slay her at that moment. Her eyes wide with terror she waited for the final blow to strike but it never came. Toshiki heard his breathing shallow and his body broke out in a cold sweat, trying to compose himself, struggling to keep the madness at bay.  
  
Full of sorrow at his state, Toshiki tore the blade from his hand and embraced him. His heart beat loudly in her ears, his body trembling, but she held him closer.  
  
Voice full of disbelief, he whispered, "Why do you embrace me?"  
  
Toshiki sobbed into his chest and said, "I am not afraid of you. I know you are not like this. I can feel it within my very soul. I will never fear your blade no matter how many times it may come against me. Your heart is poisoned with the sight of blood; it is no wonder that you warned me of such danger. Please believe me that even though I know of the hatred inside your heart, do not turn me away. You need a sheath to suppress that blade of hatred. That is why I shall stick by you, no matter what happens."  
  
Akai shook his head and replied softly, "You are a blind and silly girl. Even if you were to try and stay by me, I will not remain here forever. There are forces beyond your comprehension that will call me away. Besides, if you father were to discover this-"  
  
"I do not care what my father thinks!" Toshiki stated bluntly, drawing herself away to gaze into his softened eyes. "He believes I do not know what is happening even under my own roof. He will never discover it and if he does...what does it matter?"  
  
Laughing softly, the scarlet swordsman leaned toward her and asked, "You would do this for a hitokiri?"  
  
"No," Toshiki smiled back, her eyes warm and inviting. "I would do it...for you."  
  
~  
  
Akai's heart softened as he realized that behind the blindness there was so much bravery and determination and kindness in her heart that not even his own sword could stop her. He smiled at the thought of being beaten, not by a cold-blooded man with a gleaming blade but by a foolish young woman with a determined heart. He resigned the battle and said, "In that case, I will tell you what you wish to know."  
  
In the golden lamplight, Akai told Toshiki of the world outside the walls of the estate. He began with the good things he had seen, the different towns with markets and people of all different backgrounds. The fishing docks full of boats and dried-up old fishermen still standing for love of the sea. He told her of little children that danced and played in the streets, and the loving families, both rich and poor. Old women making baskets and rain-caps, fishing nets and tempura, the sweet smell of beef pots and warm sake and all of the smiling faces. He spoke of the mountains rising high into the azure and white atmosphere, the flying birds and the creeping things. All things that seemed peaceful until the tensions rose and war broke out. He warned her of the thieving traitors and murderers that crept through the midnight alleyways, the plotting government officials scheming trades of weapons, huge black steel boats loaded with thundering canons, and deadly self-inflicted ailments. Warnings of the west and its influences of ruinous wars, and the horrid nights in Kyoto, the main focus of all of these happenings, a city only a breath away from Osaka.  
  
It was nearly midnight when he finished his tales of difficult and wondrous times. Toshiki gaped in wonder and dread of all the things he had seen. She seemed overwhelmed at the amount of experience yet still; in her eyes was a longing to know more, to see it for herself and to have her own tales to tell. Akai now began to realize that in her foolishness, she was merely trying to learn what had been withheld from her. Everyone had a right to know what the world was like, at least the world they put there hopes it. Now was not a good time to place any hope in the world. It seemed like everything he did only worsened things and made everything appear futile. This, however, was different, this place of solitude and unawareness. He began to regret telling her of the war that was coming, the terror of battle and the threat of inhumanity. Her eyes told him, though, that she knew no fear and wished to learn more. He shook his head and told her, "I should not tell you any more than this, tonight. The hour is late and they will be looking for you."  
  
Toshiki nodded, and rose to exit into the darkened hallway. Akai reached out and grasped her by her kimono sleeve. He held out the silk shawl she had given him but she put up her hand and said, "Keep it. The night is cold and I don't want you to fall ill."  
  
Akai smiled at her, tenderness coursing through his soft eyes. Quietly, he rose up and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her body tremble as he stroked her silken locks, pulling a few stray strands from her face and gazed tenderly into her eyes. Slowly he leaned down to her, his smooth lips hovering by her ear, and whispered, "You are very kind, Miss Toshiki."  
  
Her gentle hands join into his embrace, his heart melting as he relished in the newfound feelings this girl had revealed to him. No longer did he have the urge to kill, no longer did he feel suffering and the guilt-ridden sorrow of being a manslayer. As long as he had the power of kindness, compassion and love with him, there was nothing that would deter the happiness he felt. As long as he had Toshiki, this silly little girl that had chipped away at his stone cold heart and revealed a light inside that had been hidden for many years. It was Toshiki who had reminded him of what he was truly fighting for: a new era filled with peace and prosperity, where no one would have to live in fear or dread or suffer under the cruel hilt of a twisted government. Now, with renewed strength of spirit, Akai had no fear of the truth, and was willing to finally come out of the shadows. As these thoughts came forth from his very heart, he saw the moonlight come out from the clearing fog and basked in its glory as he prepared to disclose his past to the one soul he had finally come to trust.  
  
"My name is...Battousai."  
  
~  
  
Out from the fog, a shadow, silent as a phantom, leaped over the far wall. Cloaked in shrouds of black, he came, creeping across the garden and through the outer hallways. Listening for voices, looked to the upper chamber, the only room alive by lamplight. He crawled up the wall, like a wicked insect, to investigate their endeavor. The voices became words as the shadow hovered beneath the window.  
  
~  
  
"Battousai?"  
  
"Yes," the swordsman replied. "I am a hitokiri for the Ishinshishi, a group of warriors set against the Tokugawa shogunate. I have remained in the shadows as a secret weapon used for the purpose of doing away with cruel government officials trying to eradicate the dream of a new era. As an Imperialist, I am fighting to bring peace into this world and to bring forth a new regime where people will no longer have to live in fear or suffer beneath oppression. Your father only received word of my swordsmanship skills because my identity cannot be discovered. If this were to happen, many may die because of it. I have slain so many men during the past three years that I cannot rid the smell of blood and the desire to kill from my mind. Many fear my name and the sword that I carry. That is why I wished to avoid you...I didn't want to have innocent people involved. However, your bravery has revealed to me an inner fighting spirit, one I cannot ignore. I now know that I can trust you, Toshiki. The happiness that you experience is the reason why I am fighting. You've helped me rekindle my beliefs, and for that I owe you my life."  
  
Battousai paused and let the words sink in. Her hands trembled at the sudden revelation. He knew this was a lot for her to swallow but her eyes told her she wished to know even more.  
  
"If this is so, why are you here? Shouldn't you be in Kyoto where the real threat resides?"  
  
"I have been sent here to gain information about a certain Shogunate supporter and opposing force against the Imperialists: Yamouda Kokkaido. He has been trying to gain this estate in order to secure a more powerful standing and thus be in a better position to fight for the shogunate. I was sent here to learn of his whereabouts, since he has proven elusive to the other Ishinshishi members. In order for me to execute justice I must learn where Kokkaido is residing and eliminate him."  
  
"Oh, Akai! By doing this you will save my family! I will tell you everything I know about Kokkaido. His estate resides in the small district of Amagasaki, just beyond the borders of Osaka. Although I must warn you, the estate is heavily guarded and none of my father's samurai could come against him. All fell by the sword or were tricked by his bandits. He is a very powerful man and very dangerous. You must be careful, if you go against him," Toshiki gasped as s thought came to her. "Wait. How can you even think of going against Kokkaido alone? His men will surely kill you at first sight!"  
  
"I am not known as the strongest of the Imperialists for nothing," Battousai smiled.  
  
Suddenly, his warm eyes turned amber and he stood tall upon the tatami, his body glowing in the lamplight. He took his katana blade from its stand, crossed the room and leaned next to the window. Everything was quiet outside but his instincts told him otherwise.  
  
"What is it?" Toshiki wondered fearfully.  
  
Battousai pulled open the curtain and gazed out into the garden, eyes aglow with the moonlight. He eyed the premises, but saw no one, for the shadow had already disappeared. Deciding it had probably been his imagination he replied, "Nothing," and departed from the sill, letting the curtain fall into the night air.  
  
~  
  
Morning came. Toshiki rose, dressed in her schooling uniform and went to the stateroom to wake the Battousai. She smiled as she saw him sleeping soundly. The late night had made them both exhausted but Toshiki was too livened up to sleep. After rousing him from the futon, she dragged him out to the far side of the house where there was a horse stable, housing the steeds of Matsu's servants, messengers and samurai. The barn smelled of fresh hay and oats and echoed with the sound of mouths munching grain. The building was vacant, save for a mute stable boy present, so Toshiki had no fear of anyone finding out of her being with the swordsman.  
  
"What is it you wanted to show me?" Battousai asked, yawning slightly.  
  
"Something wonderful." She grasped his hand and brought him to the end of the stable where inside was a rare sight. Out came the head of a regal horse, white as fresh show upon Mount Fuji. His eyes were as blue as the frothing sea, his long stormy mane pouring over his brow like a waterfall. Pink nostrils flared, he snorted wildly and nickered at Toshiki who held out her hand to stroke his face. Toshiki turned to Battousai and said, "This is my father's pride and joy, the great warhorse Shiro Tsuki. My father says he came from the northern islands as a gift to a warlord. During a great battle years ago, the warlord perished and his horse ran off into the mountains. One of my father's samurai found him and brought him here, where he has been in my care ever since. Isn't he magnificent?"  
  
Battousai gazed into the eyes of the great horse and saw a clever fire burning within. A warrior's spirit emanated from those pools of surging ocean water and the swordsman nodded in approval. "I have never seen the like of him." Battousai reached out to touch the great white horse. Shiro Tsuki stared into his amber eyes and at once lowered his muzzle into his hand. Eyes of man and horse locked into a fierce glare. Suddenly the wind picked up and a storm of leaves swirled though the barn. An eerie thunderous echo of galloping horses sounded across the walls vanishing with the flurry of the wind. Toshiki straightened her locks as the breeze subsided and, puzzled, looked at the swordsman who was still locked with the warhorse's gaze. His hand fell and Shiro Tsuki returned to his meal.  
  
"What was that?" Toshiki pried.  
  
"A clash of spirits," Battousai smiled, turned, and walked out of the barn. "I must return to my post now, Toshiki."  
  
After she watched him disappear into the garden, Toshiki leaned against the stall door and said, "I think he likes you."  
  
Tsuki replied with a snort and Toshiki left him to engage her Master in swordplay. 


	7. Night of the Ninjas

A/N: Here's where all of the action starts. Sorry about the delay everybody. My brain's been dead for a while. No inspiration! More to come soon though!  
  
Chapter 6 - Night of the Ninjas  
  
Ominous black clouds gathered in the silvery skies overhead as night fell upon the Matsu estate. The deep roar of an approaching storm sent the shadowy silhouettes of moonlit vapors aloft and swirling in a gloomy whirlpool of tumultuous winds. The bamboo creaked and scraped against its own trunks, as its swayed violently from side to side. The bright moon, full and luminous, was soon blotted out by the oncoming legion of storm clouds. Flashes of silent lightning reached out into the darkness, like the hand of a restless spirit, to touch the sweet earth and light a fire of life-in-death. Following after closely, its wretched moaning that thundered and shook the land.  
  
Lurking within the shadows, a horde of fiends gathered in the rustling bamboo, their presence concealed in the darkness and wind. Their voices drowned out by the growing thunderstorm, they planned their infiltration. Splitting into two factions they surrounded the mansion, leaping through the night like goblins, with one group hovering beneath the amber-lighted window. Silver blades revealed themselves in the gloom like the wicked fanged grin of a wolf ready to strike. Closer they came, lighting cracking violently overhead, screaming madness across the sky as it split open and rain began to fall upon their cloaked figures. Hovering within the drowning sheets of sky water, they awaited their quarry.  
  
~  
  
Battousai stood solemnly outside the stateroom, his hand resting on the door he had shut moments ago. The storm was filled with aggravation, the skies darkening and the winds growing more violent. His eyes narrowed to slits, glowing brightly with burning fire, as the sense of intruders raced through his veins. His hand went to the hilt of his sword as he flew down the stairs and out onto the wooden walkway. Staring into the writhing storm he watched for movement, any sign that his intuition had not failed him. Heart pounding within his chest, he waited, alert as a mountain beast to the potential threat that might be hovering in the bamboo just beyond the thick layers of driving rain. There, he saw the glint of a sword reflecting a stray thread of moonlight that peered through the dark clouds. Like a horde of evil spirits, they emerged from the depths of darkness and into the waning moonlight, soaked with rain, their swords glinting menacingly.  
  
Calmly, Battousai stepped out into the downpour, the soles of his feet immediately saturated with rainwater and mud. The shower of water poured down on him, soaking his bangs and sending a bitter chill down his spine. The presence of the powerful elements only made him feel stronger as his opponents approached, a group of ten or fifteen, each with long swords and daggers in their hands. Watching from behind a gloomy mist, Battousai took his stance before his challengers, right hand hovering over his thirsty katana blade. In an instant, as a dazzling flash of lighting slithered across the sky above their heads and a roar of thunder boomed, they attacked, swords high and drawn to destroy. Battousai, eyes aglow with fiery hatred, cried out loud with the thunder and lunged forth as the battle began.  
  
~  
  
Toshiki jumped as she heard the thunder bellow in the sky outside. She held her kimono close around her shoulders, and wiped the loose strands of glossy black hair from her face. Smiling softly, she thought of the wondrous swordsman she had come to be so close to. It had been almost a week since Battousai had revealed himself to her and she had already experienced many wonderful things. She had showed him her impressive poetic, horsemanship, swordsmanship, and musical talents, which delighted his heart and pleased his soul. Satisfied with her utmost accomplishment, she lay back against the disheveled futon and sighed contentedly. Finally, she had taken hold of a rare and wonderful prize she had almost doubted achieving. She stared at a glowing amber candlelight, watching it dance in the cool wind that wafted through the paper screen and thought of him lovingly. She dreamed of the day when the wars would cease, and she would be free from the bonds that held her prisoner, united with her swordsman lover forever. It would be a time of happiness and joy that would never end, alongside a love she never wished to lose. Her eyes filled with happy tears at the thought of such beautiful imaginings and wished that day would come soon.  
  
Her joyful mood was suddenly broken by another crack of thunder that shook the whole mansion. Toshiki grew fearful of the storm and wished to be near her lover. She quickly clambered to her feet to search for him, when an invisible hand opened the sliding paper doors. A shadow hovered in the doorway, the flash of a sword glinting in the candlelight. Toshiki's eyes grew wide in fear as it stepped forward followed by another and yet another. The window shutters flew open with the power of the raging winds and sent the room into swirling chaos. Toshiki could see nothing but darkness, the pelting rain forcing her to the ground, the brutal tempest engulfing her in terror. She screamed as the intruders came upon her and clutched her in their claws. Blindly, she fought against them, trying to evade their grasp, but was too weak for their vast numbers and she being without a weapon, was rendered helpless.  
  
Blades drawn to her throat, they gagged and bound her in ropes and cloth and carried her to the back of the house. The rain soaked her thin kimono and froze her terror-stricken form. She cried out but no one heard, she fought but could not win, she prayed but found no salvation. Knowing her dear Akai would save her, she searched for him frantically but he was nowhere to be seen. The clouds burst overhead with golden radiance as the rain continued its assault, thunder roaring like a wicked monstrosity. For a moment during that illumination she thought she saw the figure of Akai, standing amongst a group of terrible warriors, his scarlet hair drenched and flowing down his back, his sword dripping with blood. She cried out to him, but to no avail. The bandits threw her upon a waterlogged warhorse and rode off into the storm.  
  
~  
  
Battousai, fought off his attackers swiftly and accurately, each swing of his mighty katana connecting and ending the battle one man at a time. There were five still standing, the others scattered lifeless in the mud, yet there was no smell of fear permeating the air. They raised their swords, and as Battousai rushed to end them, he heard a voice from beyond the storm calling out to him, a cry for help. He glanced behind to see where it had come from and saw, in a flash of amber lightning, the fragile form of Toshiki, a torn and wilted flower, being carried off into the darkness. His heart urged him to go after her but the battle raged on as his attackers advanced. Helpless to aid her, Battousai fought them off, anger filling his heart as the manslayer took over, sending him into a wild rage. Within moments the lot of them lay dead upon the rain-soaked ground, now red with their freshly spilled blood. Breathing heavily, he fought to regain control of his urge to kill. The storm began to calm as his true heart returned, however, the kidnappers were long gone.  
  
Stunned at the sudden happening, he tried to figure out how he could have left himself off-guard. How did they plan such a successful and cunning attack? He thought back upon the day of revelation. There was a moment where his instincts were alerted to the presence of an intruder outside the mansion, however he gave it no concern. The bandits he had just defeated may have appeared to be lackeys, however their fighting techniques made all the difference. Normally he would have beaten any group of bandits in a matter of seconds. These men were different. They fought using a horizontal sword technique and were unafraid of his presence. It was clear. They had found him out. His identity had been discovered and because of that, Toshiki had been captured. Battousai cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.  
  
Suddenly, a woman's scream shattered his train of thought and a crackled voice shouted, "She's gone! She's gone!"  
  
The house came to life as servants and vassals awoke from their slumber to investigate. Still standing in the easing storm, Battousai caught the light of a lantern lighting up the outer walkway. A man who came from the house, dressed in his nightclothes, marching determinedly toward where the woman was screaming. It was Kaurousuke. He came to the window and shouted, "Old Yousai, what's the matter? Why are you shouting in the middle of the night?"  
  
"It's Miss Toshiki!" the old woman cried, her face red with worry. "She's vanished! I cannot find her anywhere! She's gone! Lady Toshiki is gone!"  
  
Kaurousuke, turned and saw Battousai standing above a group of still forms, drenched with rain and blood. He marched toward him, stared at the massacre and said coldly, "Where is she?"  
  
Battousai's left hand clutched hard onto the hilt of katana, and a surge of rage filled his heart. "Taken...by Kokkaido's men."  
  
The sword master let out a horrified gasp at hearing such news. He lunged at Battousai with verbal weaponry. "I don't believe this! How could you let such a thing happen? I can't believe that Lord Matsu hired such an arrogant, incompetent fool as you to protect this estate. You are a disgrace! I ought to-"  
  
Kaurousuke's assault was silenced by Battousai's crushing hand constricting his throat. He glared at Kaurousuke, shooting daggers into his soul and hissed, "I warned you never to insult a hitokiri. Let me tell you this much. I have every intention to rescue Lord Matsu's daughter from Kokkaido. If you interfere, I will personally see to it that you never hold a sword again."  
  
"Your threats are pathetic, young fool. Besides, even if you were to try and infiltrate Kokkaido's mansion alone, you will be killed before you even reached the gate. Not even Matsu-sama's best samurai could stand against him."  
  
"You misjudge me. I am no samurai...I am a hitokiri." Battousai threw Kaurousuke to the ground and headed for the stable. He opened the doors and rushed to the far end of the barn, capturing the moonlit warhorse horse: Shiro Tsuki. In a flash the swordsman was aloft upon his great back and flew out into the garden at full gallop, nearly running into the bewildered daimyo.  
  
"What is the meaning of this?" Matsu demanded seeing that his daughter was gone and his prized horse in the hands of a mere hired man.  
  
"I'm sorry, Matsu-sama, but there is too much a stake to explain. Have no fear, for I shall not return empty-handed. The sun will not rise until my task is complete and the threat of Kokkaido has ended!" With that, Battousai turned his horse to the night and galloped through the gates and into the forest beyond, riding west toward Amagasaki.  
  
"I do not understand, Yamagata," Matsu-sama said to his advisor, who had suddenly appeared from the shadows to stand beside him. "How can one man hope to achieve the impossible? How can he hope to stand a chance against Kokkaido? I cannot trust him. My daughter's life is at stake! I will send all of my servants if necessary! Call them at once!"  
  
"No, my lord," Yamagata replied, calmly.  
  
"Why ever not?" Matsu demanded.  
  
"Because, this man is no ordinary swordsman. He has his heart set upon something so precious and dear to him, that not even a legion of spirits could stop him. He holds a power unknown to you or I, unbridled and untamed except by his own soul. A power, I believe, greater than even Kokkaido himself. Do not doubt his abilities, for as he promised, he will not return empty-handed."  
  
Lord Matsu stared at the overwhelming devastation the young swordsman had left strewn upon the ground and replied, "Perhaps your right my friend...perhaps you're right." 


	8. A Test of Loyalty

A/N:  
  
Boy! It's been a while since I've written in this story. Sorry it took me so long to post a new chapter. Did I leave you in suspense? Huh? Huh? #crickets chirping# Oh, everyone's a critic. Well, anyway, hope you like it. Sorry for the OC-ness. CIAO! Please, please, PLEASE! I NEED REVIEWS FOR THIS THING!  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------  
  
Chapter 7 – A Test of Loyalty  
  
The rain pelted Toshiki's terror-stricken face as the bandits rode on through the gloomy forest. Lightning flashed silently as the storm began to dissipate, with the pounding hooves of the horses thundering instead of the great noise overhead. Her body knocked against the tough leather saddle, her soft skin chaffing, as her captors continued onward. She looked up to view their faces, and saw the large man who had thrown her upon his steed. His soulless eyes glared down from behind his cloth-covered features with a blazing hatred, sending fear into her heart. Like youkai riding upon beasts spawned from fire and smoldering ash, they rode swift as the wind until they came upon a great sight.  
  
Silhouetted against the reddening sky, a great mansion stood alone upon a high cliff overlooking a vast valley plain. Fog hovered about the fortress like a cloak of darkness, concealing its jutting roof beams in thick gloom. Moonlight fell upon the cliff-face, revealing a great wall circling at least fifty meters from the house. Towering cypress trees shaded the garden areas, dimly lit by iron lanterns that created an eerie greenish glow. Shadowy figures guarded the entrance, a great stone gateway leading into the inner courtyard. Toshiki gazed in awe at the splendor of the castle. Her eyes darted about as she caught the gaze of dozens of sentries, black and foreboding, carrying spears, swords and arrows.  
  
The large bandit hopped off of his steed and grasped her harshly, dragging her off the horse's back and onto the wet ground. Shivering in the cold night wind, she was forced up onto the spacious wooden walkway and led inside. The felons shoved her into a murky room that smelled of damp wood and ash. Toshiki whirled around, trying to right her senses, fighting the terror that was closing in upon her fragile mind.  
  
Suddenly and without warning the doors flew open and a great shadow, massive and frightening, stood black against the moonlight. Toshiki gasped as it came closer, shutting the sliding doors behind it. She remembered the horrible dream, and feared the shining blade that might come forth from the darkness. Her inner voice rang through the night in a silent heart- wrenching scream, the name of her only hope hanging upon her wet lips. Like the wilted petal of a torn flower, she lay helplessly shivering upon the tatami, paralyzed with fear as the specter loomed over her. Trembling beneath the approaching shadow, she whispered, "Akai...please help me."  
  
~  
  
Battousai rode swiftly down the road, the black bamboo forest rushing by, and the world a blur. He could hear the powerful breath of the horse; the sound merging with the distant thunder, the flowing wild mane swirling like the storm-clouds, the pounding hooves beating out a powerful rhythm. The force of the warhorse's stride resonated through his body as he urged it on down the path, fueling it with his own rage and determination.  
  
How could I allow myself to be caught off guard? I knew something like this would happen. Why didn't I see it coming? That silly girl blinded me with her constant distracting affections toward me and as a result my cover's been blown! Katsura is not going to like this. Still, I can't blame Toshiki for everything. It was because of me that she's been kidnapped. I let my guard down. I let her get too close to me and now...she's been taken. Who knows what Kokkaido and his men might be plotting to do against her. I should have been more forceful... I shouldn't have let her get close. No...it's too late to change anything now. I must get her back, no matter what the cost. She is the only link I have to happiness and I will not lose her for anything!  
  
Shiro Tsuki cleared a large moss-covered log lying across the road and galloped onward into the thickening fog. Battousai, high upon its back, stared out into the forest as he began his approach to Kokkaido's mansion.  
  
~  
  
"Well, well, well," spoke the shadowy figure in a husky and cunning tone. "If it isn't the daughter of Akoro Matsu: Lady Toshiki. It's been a long time since I've set my eyes on you. How much you've blossomed."  
  
"Who...who are you?" Toshiki stuttered.  
  
"So many years have gone by, I must say. You were only a child when I saw you last. It's no surprise then that you would not remember me."  
  
The figure stepped out into the lamplight revealing a face, long and angular, with eyes that shone like firestones from behind two wispy eyebrows. His shaved head reflected the moon shining through the doorway, his black hair pulled back into a topknot. He wore a black haori over a red and black kimono and hakama, a katana hanging from his belt. He was a wiry man, not as broad chested as her father, however a frightening aura encircled him, reflecting in his wicked sneer and fiery stare. Toshiki's eyes widened as she recognized the man standing before her.  
  
"Yamouda Kokkaido!" she gasped.  
  
"Ah...so you do remember me. Good, perhaps now you will understand why I've brought you here and what I have planned for you future."  
  
"You don't have to tell me anything, you wicked serpent!" Toshiki snapped harshly. "I know exactly what you want: my father's domain. However, you've overlooked one important fact, that you will never get it. You never have and you never will. There is nothing you can do to make me cooperate with your fiendish plans!"  
  
"Oh, but there is." Kokkaido came close to her, towering over her and sneering like a youkai in the darkness. "Your father's castle is weak and insecure. My men have obliterated his numbers. The whole estate is exposed to attack at any moment. If you do not cooperate as I request of you, I will immediately send out my men to attack and justly destroy all that you know and love. Once all is under my command I will have Matsu taken into custody. To kill him off too quickly is a waste, for, in addition to the obliteration of his house, I will have your head brought to him as a final gift before his own demise. Would that satisfy your valueless pride?"  
  
Toshiki, horrified at his threats, gasped, "You...you wouldn't."  
  
"I would, child."  
  
Lady Matsu pushed back her fears as she thought of the power that was most certainly coming. She saw the bold face of her lover, his long scarlet hair whipping behind him as he rushed through the dark bamboo, eyes alight with determination. She smiled confidently, knowing there was nothing to fear. "If that is your wish, why haven't you done it sooner? Is it because you are afraid? You should be. The estate is not vulnerable. There is a great power there guarding it and, once discovering my kidnapping, will make sure you and your men die this very night."  
  
Kokkaido smiled wickedly at the thought, "Oh, so you claim you still have a bit of power left, hmm?" Smirking fiendishly, he laughed, "One man cannot do the job of an army, child. My spies have been quite helpful. They tell me that your father has the power of only one swordsman defending his entire estate!" Eyes turning to blood, he growled, "Pathetic fool! I could demolish him in a breath, but...where would the fun be in that?"  
  
"Kokkaido, you monster!" Toshiki shouted, angered at his half-hearted mockery of death and destruction.  
  
He bent down to her, grasping her chin between his fingers and stared into her blazing defiant eyes. Toshiki flinched at his touch as he softly said, "Pity to have such a beautiful flower crushed while still in bloom. Perhaps the honey can be gathered before such a terrible demise."  
  
He licked his lips hungrily and came for her. Toshiki snarled at him as he closed in, slipped quickly out of his grip and bit his hand violently. Enraged at the wound, Kokkaido shouted, "You dirty little wench," striking her to the ground.  
  
Toshiki's tear-filled eyes flashed with such rebelliousness that the daimyo grew even angrier. He called in the husky, masked bandit and ordered, "Take her into the detainment room. I will have no more of this childish nonsense!" He whirled around, his katana clinking against his side, and said to her finally, "You have sealed your fate, girl. Prepare yourself for the end. I'm sure your father will love the gift I am about to send him."  
  
The guards took hold of the flower and dragged her out of the room. Toshiki kept her eyes set on the fleeting shadow of Kokkaido, her heart burning with rage, an amber light flickering within her emerald eyes.  
  
~  
  
He stood before the castle, concealed within a thickening fog that trailed the vanishing storm. Within the dense foliage surrounding the fortress, his amber eyes stared upward at the height of the outer stonewalls, debating his next move. The gravel beneath his sandals rasped slightly as he stepped forward out of the brush, his sword clinking against his thigh. Shiro Tsuki was standing a few feet away watching him eagerly, his sides smoking, and clouds of hot breath shooting from his nostrils. Battousai waved a hand slightly, telling the horse not to wander off, as he slowly crept up the side of a cypress tree. Carefully placing each foot onto the wide boughs, he made no sound as he scaled the tree, reaching a successful vantage point.  
  
The courtyards were littered with the spectral forms of samurai posted at every angle and corner, their dark haori billowing in the wind. A silver chime jingled, its song drifting across the gardens, sending moonlit ripples dancing across the black koi ponds. Silence enshrouded the entire castle creating an unnerving sense of calm, a deceptive peace. Battousai glanced over his shoulder toward the entry gate, a tall and formidable crimson hued barrier built extravagantly to be compared to a shrine entrance. However, considering the deceitful aura encompassing the area, it seemed more of a gateway to the underworld than to serenity.  
  
Battousai stared out to the far side of the courtyard toward the interior house. Outside ten to fifteen samurai stood guarding the only passage inside. His hand hovered over the hilt of his graceful katana as he prepared to infiltrate the castle. Quiet as the moonlight he leaped over the wall and landed within a thicket of bamboo. The silvery stalks swayed gently, muting his footsteps and the sound of his soft breathing. The mist followed behind his every step, the night spirit aiding him in his forthcoming battle against the evil promiscuity looming within the fortress. Eyes flickering in the midnight shadows he peered through the fog, catching sight of the first sentry.  
  
~  
  
Toshiki lay bound in thick ropes within the dank walls of the detainment room. Silvery tears ran down her soft cheeks as she wept over her horrendous fate. Her heart begged her to remember the scarlet samurai she no doubt knew was approaching fast, but feared the wicked men guarding the courtyards would cut him off. She closed her eyes and saw him within her thoughts. Glimmers of a kind smile surrounded by the peace of the cherry trees and sound of her flute that calmed his heart. Her father's face replaced her lover's as she realized that Kokkaido's men would probably be storming through the gates at that very moment and soon the gift of her own soul would prove his demise.  
  
The flower thought her heart would break. Flashes from her nightmare made her fear bubble over as a heart-wrenching sob came through her throat. She collapsed onto the hard wooden floors, chipped and jagged from old age and bloodstained from those who killed themselves before their own extermination. Had I a sword I would...  
  
Footsteps sounded through the hallway just outside the sliding doors. The clink of a sword and the creaking of the wood sent a chill down her spine and a horror through her heart. A glimmer of lamplight danced across the wall, a silhouette before the entrance. Toshiki held her breath as the doors opened and Lord Kokkaido stepped inside.  
  
"Lady Toshiki," he hissed, slowly approaching her. "Your eyes are full of tears. Is it so that you fear your demise? You had me believing you thought your death might symbolize the pride of your household. It is a shame to see such a lovely creation tormented by her own fears."  
  
Toshiki snarled at him and spat, "You are the one who should be afraid."  
  
"Such meaningless threats will not save you. However, there is a way..." Kokkaido knelt down to her level and captured her chin between his fingers. "To prevent this untimely fate as I have given you."  
  
Toshiki's eyes darted in and out of his cunning leer, her heart throbbing wildly, her mind racing. Surely Kokkaido was lying, however if she played her cards right, there was a chance she might escape. "What is it?"  
  
Kokkaido sneered like serpent, his hand slowly tracing her tear-trails. She cringed at his touch as he spoke slyly, "Become mine and I will free you. Side with me and I shall spare your house and your family. Stay with here and never shall I come against your estate. Do this and I shall give you back your life."  
  
Toshiki's eyes fell and she let the tears come. Her great wall of defiance crumbled to the ground, as she silently accepted, knowing there was no other way. Kokkaido grinned wickedly as; he coiled around her like a snake, latching onto her delicate neck. He stroked her long tresses that draped around her like a curtain of silk. Running his fingers through it, he slowly, sickeningly, came ever closer. His hands carefully loosened the ropes that bound her form, releasing their tension, leaving her vulnerable.  
  
As the wicked lord came for his great prize, Toshiki's eyes flew open, revealing glare of inner hatred flashing forth like amber fire. Her voice full of disgust, she hissed, "Never." Grasping his roaming hands, she brought her knees up and kicked him harshly in the abdomen, sending him tumbling into the wall on the other side of the room. She fought to stand, however Kokkaido had recovered faster than she had anticipated. He pinned her to the floor, eyes aflame with spite.  
  
"That is the last mistake you'll ever make, girl. I had hoped you would have reconsidered, but you've proven to be more foolish than I thought. But, do not worry, you will be reunited with your father soon enough." Kokkaido drew the wakizashi from his belt sash and held it high over her head. "Farewell."  
  
Toshiki stared into the shimmering razor edge, and the reflection of the glowing moon rising higher and higher into the clouds. The slivery light brought back a memory from not too long ago. She heard the voice of her sensei, and the silly riddle he had given her to solve: What does the flower whisper when a white moon rises? It was a shame she would never be able to solve it, now that her life was ending. But wait...the face of her lover returned to her thoughts, the beauty of his smile, the softness of his voice, the power within his grasp. Only his strength could save her. She could feel his spirit rising, growing ever closer. Yes, come...come and rescue me from this ill fate I am about to face. You trusted me with your name, now I trust you with your heart. Where are you? Toshiki's heart flew into her throat as she screamed out his glorious name. "AKAI!"  
  
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A/N: More to come in...oh I don't know how long it will take me to write it. If there is anyone who actually likes reading this story, you'll have to wait until my writing batteries are charged again. 


	9. Battle Beneath the Twilight

A/N:  
  
Ah! The great and satisfying feeling of accomplishment! I've finished two more chapters! Sorry about the delay. My computer crashed and everything I've written/ drawn/ created has been wiped out. Vanished, DESTROYED! There's nothing left! Thank goodness some of my well-written stuff was saved here. If I lost this story...boy would I be mad! ALL MY HARD WORK GONE TO WASTE! Anyway, now I'm back on the writing field and am making a homerun toward the finish line. Only three more chapters and an epilogue to write and its all over! Or is it? BUM BUM BUUUM! Muahahahahhhaaaaaa!  
  
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Chapter 8 – Battle Beneath the Twilight  
  
He stood fast in the doorway, his chest heaving, robes slightly tattered. His hands trembled slightly, dripping with blood and sweat from the battles fought moments ago in the hallways. Eyes glowing with a powerful rage, he glanced around the room, searching for his next victim. The blinding silver katana licked the sweet crimson that clung to its graceful form and whispered to the swordsman, "more...more!"  
  
His footsteps sent a silent wave or horror through the tatami, a rushing breeze and fog following after him, creating the sense that a bloodthirsty spirit had entered. An air of lust and passion for death hovered about him like a scarlet nimbus, sending his gold eyes gleaming into a murderous insanity.  
  
He approached stealthily, as would a great tiger looming before its prey. His heavy breathing echoed as a growl through the room, each step drawing him ever closer to the maddening bloodlust.  
  
She should have been afraid, a normal heart would have skipped and failed at such a sight. Not so with the trembling flower sitting in the center of the room. Her hands flew to her mouth, drowning the soft gasp that caught in her throat. Her heart soared as she gazed at his magnificent form, battle-scarred and bloody, lungs heaving, eyes flashing fire in the darkness. Her soul filled with an exhilarating euphoria as she gazed in awe at his astounding majesty.  
  
Fingers trembling she reached out toward the smooth curve of his exposed neck and the small of his back that creased the folds of his haori. A love stuck sigh escaped her lips as she watched the silver rainwater drip down his arms. A trail of liquid storm water trickled from his sandals, soaking into the tatami and taken up by the fog. Her emerald eyes bled silver tears as her soul rejoiced at the sight of him and the beacon of hope he represented.  
  
Turning toward her moonlit form, he spoke softly, his breathing shallow, "Toshiki, are you all right?"  
  
Enwrapped in his gaze, she failed to see the gleam of a silver sword reflecting from the shadows, until a movement stirred her senses. "Akai! Look out!" she shouted.  
  
Kokkaido emerged from the darkness, sword raised to strike the Battousai down, but his cover had been blown and the young swordsman easily blocked his attack. A loud ping sounded through the room as the steel fangs clashed, their wielders reeling into the shadows.  
  
Kokkaido stepped out into the moonlight, sneering with an air of disdain and a look of disappointment on his face, "So, you must be the swordsman hired by Matsu, the man called Battousai. Pity. I had presumed you to be further gifted with the sword. Apparently I was wrong."  
  
Battousai, concealed in the shadows, whispered, "You are unwise to talk in such a manner when you are soon to lose your head."  
  
"Oh, presumptuous aren't we? Strange that Matsu sent only one swordsman to retrieve his lovely little daughter from my wicked hands. It amazes me that you came this far into my castle. Most of the others who have come against me could not get past the front gates."  
  
"If you know so much, I advise you to be more wary than proud, for it is the proud who are first to die."  
  
Kokkaido flinched slightly, seeing a fire in the young swordsman's eyes flashing from the shadows. This intruder was not playing games with him. Enraged at his insolence, Kokkaido searched for a sign in the darkness and caught sight of a glinting blade. He charged, swinging his drawn katana in a great arc, slashing into the wall. He missed, his eyes catching the young warrior leaping into the center of the room and standing in front of Toshiki, who was paralyzed by the tension rising in the room. Battousai whispered softly for her to leave while the battle ensued. She nodded, and rose to flee but Kokkaido's keen hearing caught it and he rushed forward.  
  
"I shall not let the blood of Matsu escape alive!" he shouted as their swords clashed, sparks flying from the ringing steel. Toshiki cried out as she saw Kokkaido shove the scarlet swordsman away, draw his wakizashi and throw it straight toward her heart.  
  
Unable to move, Battousai shouted, "Toshiki! No!" But the girl was not harmed, for with cat-like reflexes, she had dodged the blade, letting it pierce the wall on the far side of the room. Angered at such a close call, Battousai glared at the daimyo and said, "Your battle is with me. Leave the girl out of this."  
  
He fought Kokkaido off and leaped into the air, somersaulting onto the wall and leaping toward his opponent. The daimyo blocked and sliced toward his chest. Battousai dove out of the way and placed his sword back into its sheath.  
  
That stance! It's coming, thought Toshiki, who had backed up into the shadows so as not to be seen. It was the same attack he had used on the night he rescued her from the armed trespasser infiltrating the gardens. Nothing could possibly survive the speed of it! Within moments he had drawn his sword, colliding with the daimyo in a powerful display of speed and strength. Kokkaido could barely hold it, but continued without letup.  
  
Breathing hard, the daimyo snarled, "I could go on like this all night."  
  
"You're confidence will be your undoing," Battousai replied, viciously coming with a counter attack, this time from above. Disappearing into the shadows, he leaped up and came down on the daimyo, slashing his shoulder open, bright-red blood spilling onto the tatami. Kokkaido cried out in agony and stumbled into the gloomy doorway. Battousai took his chance to finish him off. He followed the sent of blood to the side of the entryway and lunged. A sharp pain grazed his cheek as his opponent grasped his lost wakizashi and thrashed it into the darkness before him. Battousai flinched and jumped back into the center of the room, holding a hand to the long gash trailing from his cheekbone to his chin, warm blood seeping through his fingers.  
  
Kokkaido, from his place in the shadows, though badly injured, laughed shrilly at his small victory. "As I suspected, you are not even a samurai, just a poor imitation. Matsu must have been at his wits end to hire a man such as yourself. 'The strongest of the Imperialists.' Ha! I laugh at you. You are nothing but a weakling."  
  
"I ask you this, would a weakling have been able to inflict such a deep wound in your shoulder while he only received a scratch? Look at yourself and tell me who the better swordsman is," Battousai snarled, his eyes full of rage. "Look into my eyes, Kokkaido, and tell me you are not afraid."  
  
"I have nothing to fear, you pathetic excuse for a swordsman!" Kokkaido shouted, blood trickling from his lips. "What are you to me? Nothing! Nothing but dirt beneath my feet, which I intend to leave you as!"  
  
"You are wrong," the scarlet swordsman hissed. "I am more powerful than you shall ever hope to be."  
  
"You would have to be a god to defeat me in battle!"  
  
Battousai's eyes sparked with an inhuman fire. He slowly inserted his sword into its sheath and stood at an angle before the daimyo. His voice, harshly muted to a devilish tone, whispered horribly, "I am."  
  
Kokkaido gasped in horror as the young swordsman came toward him with a speed matched only by spirits, disappearing into the darkness. He raised his sword to defend himself from the invisible attack but it was too late. Eyes white with terror he saw the shining blade inches from his neck, silencing his horrible scream. Toshiki watched as the daimyo's body fell to the ground, blood gushing onto the tatami. She wheezed in sickened fright as his head rolled across the floor, coming to a halt at her feet.  
  
Gasping at the blood-shot eyes wide with frozen shock, and the mouth wide with a silent shriek of death, she turned away, weeping. Warmth wrapped around her quivering shoulders, the arms of her swordsman lover. Her eyes rose to meet the tender gaze of Akai, who had rescued her from certain death. She clutched to him, embracing him weakly and sobbing into his chest. His hand reached up and stroked her raven-black locks, loosed and flowing down her back Tucking his fingers beneath her chin, he raised her eyes to meet his and whispered, "You are safe now."  
  
Silvery tears pouring down her cheeks, Toshiki smiled and stroked his hands. Concern welled in her heart as she looked upon the terrible wound that had scarred his perfect face. Angrily, she tore off a piece of her yukata and dabbed the blood away. She felt his warm hand cover hers as he took the cloth and silently pressed it to his wound, eyes shimmering in the coming twilight. Leaning toward him, her lips brushed against his for a moment, but her touch was broken almost as quickly as it had come as he rose and slowly walked over to the bleeding head. He took a piece of cloth from his sleeve and gravely wrapped it around the twisted face.  
  
"Come Toshiki," he said, putting a hand out to her. "We must leave this place quickly."  
  
Nodding she grasped it and rose, following closely toward the doorway. As they approached, Toshiki caught sight of something written on the wall near the place Kokkaido was standing seconds before he was slain. The words, written sloppily in blood, read: 'Meisho Kokkaido no taeru itsu made mo.' (The name Kokkaido shall endure forever.) Her heart skipped and fear welled in her soul, realizing that the battle may not be over. Was this his desperate attempt to keep his honor alive, or worse his wicked threats? Was this war going to continue? Would it ever end?  
  
Her train of thought was halted by the warm presence of her guardian, softly grasping her hand and leading her out of danger. Her fear was stifled slightly, as she stared into his trusting gaze. Still, despite her unquestionable confidence in the great swordsman, she couldn't shake the feeling that some part of that threatening spirit still lived, lurking in the shadows.  
  
~  
  
Dawn was ascending over the castle of Kokkaido; the moon slowly sinking while the east glowed with a silvery radiance. The valley below sang with the hushed songs of early-awakened birds, fleeting through the cedar trees, and the soft creaking of bamboo in the wind. However, for the crimson samurai and the delicate flower, this was no time to gaze upon such beauty. Their very lives were in the balance.  
  
Creeping silently through the mansion, they soon came upon a balcony overlooking the outer courtyard. Though the swordsman had taken down many of the sentinels, there were others who had not been alerted to their loss. In time, perhaps moments, it would be found out and things would prove to be more perilous for them.  
  
Battousai held her in the darkness, concealed from the ever-watchful eyes below, and whispered, "We need to get to the outside as fast as possible. Scaling the wall is the quickest way out of here. There is a sakura tree just ahead. The guards will not catch sight of us if we climb it."  
  
"How will we escape if they do? We will never be able to outrun their horsemen."  
  
"Have you any faith in this enchanted horse of yours, or in your samurai for that matter?" Battousai smiled slightly.  
  
Toshiki smiled back, realizing his wisdom in taking the best steed from her father's stables. Only Shiro Tsuki had the strength to run so far in such a short period. It was no surprise then that he had arrived just in time. There was no way for them to lose.  
  
Her joy was suddenly broken by a terrible cry, coming from the entrance gate. She whirled around to see a horde of guards rushing outside with so much excitement one would have thought they had found a trove of gems. Horrified, she caught sight of the form of a white horse being dragged into the courtyard. It was Shiro Tsuki, shrieking terribly, rearing and striking out at his attackers. More and more men came flocking from their posts to see this find.  
  
"This is unfortunate," Battousai, grumbled, looking over the roof to the ground below, deciding upon a safe descending route.  
  
Toshiki's hands flew to her mouth to stifle a shout, and her heart broke, realizing something awful. She could see that Battousai wished to escape while the men were distracted but she had to insist on something important. "Akai, I cannot leave Tsuki behind."  
  
"There is no time, Toshiki, if we do not leave now we sure to be caught. Come, quickly. Let us go!"  
  
"No!" she fought against him. "I cannot leave him here!"  
  
"Do you wish to fight those men for the life of a horse?" Battousi demanded, growing frustrated at her idiocy.  
  
"It is not his life I am concerned with," she whispered, her voice weighty, remembering the dripping words written upon the wall. "Once they discover what has happened, they could use Tsuki to discover the culprit of their master's death. They will trace him back to my father's house and surely come against us. Let us end it now, once and for all."  
  
Though the girl seemed to be acting reckless, Battousai did agree that a danger still remained. If he was to accomplish what he had set out to do, destroying the threat of Kokkaido, it had to be done in every sense. The two of them fled down the stairway and into the inner courtyard. The hallways were vacant for every soul had gone to see the find. They crept from corridor to corridor, coming ever closer to the growing mob. They waited in the shadows until the men had put the horse into the stables, most of them going back to their posts afterward, a few others going into the house to inform their master.  
  
"We don't have much time," said the scarlet swordsman.  
  
Grabbing her hand he led her inside the barn. The walls echoed with the harsh snorting and stomping hooves of the white horse, still saddled, marching around the straw-bedded stall in a great huff. Wild-eyed from his battle with the guards, his grunts were more like growls as he pawed the hay and white foam dribbled from his half-open mouth.  
  
Toshiki ran to the stall door and said softly, "Tsuki, I'm hear. Calm down or the guards will hear you!"  
  
The white beast's ears pricked at the sound of her voice and he half- trotted to her, snorting and blowing out his complaints. She grasped the reins in one hand and opened the latched door with the other. It made a small clicking noise that raised the hairs on her neck and Tsuki flew out of the stall, dancing in the cramped aisle, snorting wildly. Battousai took the reins from her hand and leaped into the saddle. He quickly helped her into the crook just behind him, feeling her quivering hands wrap around his waist tightly. With a swift kick he sent the white steed into a run, barging through the loosely shut barn doors and galloping into the twilight.  
  
They rushed by the first squadron of samurai who had gone back to their posts, the pounding hooves pelting them with flying sand and pebbles. Confused at the sight, they were alarmed by the sudden news. Three guards came rushing out of the house screaming, "Our master! Our master has been slain! Kill them! Kill them!"  
  
Shouts of alarm echoed across the courtyard as Battousai and Toshiki approached the great entranceway. The doors had been left wide open, however, once the alarm had gone off they slowly began closing. Samurai rushed from the shadows, lining up before the gates, swords drawn and glinting in the morning light. Toshiki's eyes went wide.  
  
"Akai, the gates! We'll never make it through!" she cried.  
  
Battousai growled through his teeth angrily and pulled back hard on the reins. Shiro Tsuki's head flew into the air as he rose upon his hind legs, towering before the ranks of samurai. His wild blue eyes sent an ethereal chill down their spines, for he appeared as a phantom in the dim light. Battousai turned him quickly to the right and they barreled down the courtyard, flanked by a growing number of troops. The glinting silver of a hundred swords shimmered like the ripples upon a moonlit pond, like a school of hoary carp writhing in a drought-stricken pool. Toshiki could not believe their numbers. Perhaps the words were true. Perhaps Kokkaido's spirit won't let the blood of Matsu escape. She grabbed onto her lover and prayed for a miracle.  
  
Battousai drew his bloodstained katana and slashed it to and fro, cutting down samurai one by one. Blood spattered everywhere and Tsuki's white neck grew red. She saw a dreadful fire in the eyes of the swordsman as he fought hard against the growing legion. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a guard aiming for her and as she dodged it wished she had her naginata blade. She was suddenly struck with an idea and reached for Battousai's wakizashi. Drawing it clean from its sheath, she swung it round and took off the arm of her attacker. He fell screaming to the ground. Sickened by his cry, she hesitated to continue, only to put it aside as the next attacker struck at her. Agile as a cat, she swung round, balancing herself on the horse's jerking backside and slashed viciously at Kokkaido's samurai. Battousai looked back at her for a moment and smiled at her determination.  
  
The numbers were overwhelming, swords and arrows so thick and deadly she was certain they would never be able to make it out alive without some kind of miracle. Tuski charged through the masses, snarling and snapping at any offender who dare lay a finger upon his bridle. Mouth foaming he let out a horrible cry, roaring like a glowing wild spirit, fighting back as if in a great battle.  
  
Suddenly they found themselves heading straight for the far wall. Battousai saw it coming and veered to the right, circling round and fleeing from the growing mob of samurai, wrought with anger and vengeance for the attack upon the fortress. Toshiki righted herself but shrieked loudly as they met head on the mass of samurai and neither one them was gaining advantage.  
  
"This is impossible! We cannot fight them all!" Toshiki cried, still praying in her heart for some form of salvation. They had come too far to be destroyed in such a terrible way. She stared into the glinting crimson upon her sword. There must be a way...there must be a way! Her grip tightened on the hilt and she shouted to the heavens, "There must be a way!"  
  
Suddenly the white horse stopped in mid-stride and looked to the left, staring up at the great meeting hall on the far side of the courtyard. In the same instance, as the swordsman tried to urge on, an arrow flew toward them, aimed for their hearts. Toshiki's gasped as she saw the deadly speeding contraption coming at her, but before the danger could strike them down, Tsuki took off like a blazing bullet toward the building. Battousai pulled and jerked at the reins to alter his course, but the horse had clamped onto the metal bit with his teeth, making it impossible to stop him.  
  
Toshiki, eyes wide with fear, watched helplessly as they raced toward their imminent fate. The guards and samurai, armed and raging, closed in around them. There was no way out. As they came to the steps of the building, she was sure they'd crash into it. Yet, amazingly, Tsuki leaped from the ground straight over the mob and onto the tiled rooftop. During that instant, Battousai reached over with his sword and cut down two burning lamps, setting the roof aflame. Nimbly, Tsuki hurdled over the peak and down to the other side, and in a great bound that surpassed any samurai or any amble creature, flew over the wide span of the rear garden, over the stone wall, and into the bamboo thicket beyond. Landing powerfully outside of danger they escaped, galloping on toward Osaka, leaving the Kokkaido estate to burn in the distance, and ending his threat forevermore.  
  
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A/N:  
  
Boy that chapter was hard to write, all the battle scenes and action. My poor brain! But don't you worry; the fun's just starting! PLEASE REVIEW ALL MY HARD WORK! 


	10. Departure

Chapter 9 – Departure  
  
The Matsu estate had come alive with rejoicing as the pair galloped into the square. They flew to Tsuki's heaving and smoking sides, grateful to see that their lady had been rescued. Lord Matsu rushed outside and caught his daughter as she slipped down from the saddle. He cradled her in his arms, kissing her soft cheeks and weeping into her long hair.  
  
"Little hana, I am so grateful you are safe," he sobbed, stroking her face and holding her close to his heart.  
  
She wrapped her arms around her father and cried into his sleeves, trembling slightly from her ordeal. He brought her to arms length and smiled tenderly. Suddenly he noticed blood splashed across her yukata and looked at the ragged samurai, face slashed and bleeding, messy with death.  
  
"Tell me, what happened," Matsu demanded.  
  
Battousai came to him sternly and said, "I have done what I set out to do." "You mean to say that- "  
  
Battousai walked over to the white horse and took a round cloth-bound object from the saddle. He brought it to Lord Matsu, bowed respectively and opened it to reveal the head of his enemy. Matsu was aghast with fright and shock at seeing it.  
  
"Here is the proof to you. I have kept my word. You have no reason to suspect me of any treason. Is it enough for you, Lord Matsu?"  
  
"Enough? Why this is grand! You have done far more than I expected. You've protected my estate, rescued my daughter from certain death, and destroyed my oppressor and every threat he left behind. It is absolutely amazing! Great samurai, I must know your name, so all in my house shall remember the man that saved them."  
  
Toshiki flinched at her father's request but the scarlet warrior remained composed. "I regret to say that I cannot reveal my name to anyone. It has caused nothing but pain for me and for those I encounter."  
  
Toshiki dropped her eyes sadly at his words.  
  
"I see," Matsu mused. "Well then, who-ever-you-are, come let us celebrate this joyous occasion! Let us drink to the new future that this man has given us!"  
  
The whole crowd of servants and vassals shouted in applause to the samurai and went off to prepare the festivities. One lingered behind. Kaurousuke, who had been concealed within the crowd, now approached the swordsman.  
  
"I guess I was wrong about you," he said softly. "You have proven to be a more honorable man than I once thought. You have accomplished the impossible and for that I give you my respect."  
  
Battousai did not reply. He only looked at the sword master coldly, the wound on his face still bleeding slightly down his jaw line.  
  
"Still, I find it strange that a hitokiri would risk his life for something he was not obligated to do." Smiling, he turned and walked off into the mansion.  
  
The hitokiri stood alone in the courtyard, eyes shaded as the morning sun rose in the east, glowing red in the sky.  
  
~  
  
The celebration had gone on throughout the day and long into the night when Battousai exited the hall and went to the stateroom. He slipped his two swords into his belt and placed his wallet and other belongings in the pouch beneath his haori. Quietly he walked down the stairs and out into the garden, heading toward the tall wooden gates. He stopped for a moment and looked back at the mansion, echoing with song and music and laughter. He smiled at their happiness and wished things to go well with them, especially the girl: Toshiki. How he would miss her.  
  
Suddenly, as if my magic, there she was, standing before him like an angel in the growing moonlight, her long raven-black hair cascading around her like a curtain of black silk, and her white kimono glimmering with silver mist. A worried expression flooded her face as she noticed he was set to travel.  
  
"You're leaving?" she asked quietly.  
  
"I am sorry, Toshiki," he sighed. He had hoped not to have to say goodbye to the girl, for it would surely break her heart. "I must leave this place."  
  
"Why? Why must you go? You have done a great deed, there is nothing for you to run from."  
  
"But there is, Toshiki," he replied gravely.  
  
Her eyes were wide with interest and suspicion. Sighing once more, he gathered up the words, and told her softly, "I have been found out."  
  
Toshiki gasped in fright. "How? I spoke to no one of your identity. I swore I would not!"  
  
"It wasn't you, Toshiki. It was Kokkaido's men," he hissed. "On the night that I told you of my secret, a group of spies had been hiding within the gardens outside. I had heard them, but thought nothing of it, a foolish mistake on my part. They heard every word and relayed it to Kokkaido."  
  
"But all of Kokkaido's men are dead now. They can do you no harm. It is as it was before. You are still a secret."  
  
"No, it's not true."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"The men who attacked last night and took you to Kokkaido's mansion, were no ordinary samurai," he growled, fists clenching tightly. "Their swordsmanship was easily identified. They were my enemies...the Shinsengumi."  
  
"The Shinsengumi?" Toshiki gasped, horrified.  
  
"Yes. They had been sided with Kokkaido the entire time, and it was their cunning that prevented me from stopping your abduction. And now they know who I am and will soon come after me. That is why I must leave, for fear I may put you and your family in even more danger."  
  
Toshiki's eyes lowered and darted about, taking in his words. Silver tears crept down her face as she tried to accept this truth. Sadly, she could not bear it and threw herself upon him.  
  
"Why? Why must you leave me, Akai, after all that's happened? Can't you stay a little while longer? I couldn't bear to see you go! Please, Akai...please don't leave me. I don't know what I would ever do without you. You are my life, Akai, I owe you everything..."  
  
"I know, Toshiki," he whispered, stroking her long hair. "I know this is hard for you, but I must leave. In order to keep you safe I must leave, else my presence here will endanger your life. You must understand, that I am doing this for your own safety, and I could not bear to see you die because of a mistake that I had made. I've already done that once and I do not intend to do it again."  
  
Toshiki wiped her eyes and looked into his face. The long scarlet hair, the piercing eyes, and now, the scar forever etched into his soul, all came together in one terrible, sorrowful moment, for she knew there was no way for her to stop him. She knew this would probably be the last time she would ever see her dear Akai. Trying to keep the tears from swimming in her eyes and blurring his wondrous image, she finally lowered her head in defeat, and said, "I understand."  
  
Seeing as it was the right time to depart, Battousai turned and began to walk toward the exit. His march was halted by an insistent cry of, "Wait!" He turned to see that the girl bade him to stay for a moment as she rushed off to the far side of the house. Minutes later she returned, towing behind her the white horse, Shiro Tsuki, saddled and supplied with food pouches. Lovingly, she took his hand and placed the leather reins into his grip.  
  
She looked into his eyes with every ounce of affection she possessed, her essence, her very soul, and said, "Take with you, on your journeys, this horse, as a symbol of my utmost gratitude and undying love. Ride upon him and save others just as you saved me."  
  
After she spoke these words, she slowly and gently tipped her head upward and caught the swordsman in a tender kiss, pouring every bit of strength and passion into it, so that he could not help but wrap his arms around her and return that affection due. Her heart flew into her throat at his response and knew that things would go well with her lover. His hand, so soft to the touch, caressed her cheeks and trailed down her long neck. Neither of them had ever felt such love, nor did they want it to end. But, like all good things, it did.  
  
Battousai drew away from the girl and mounted the great horse. In their last loving glance, Toshiki said, "Promise me, Akai...promise that you'll never forget me." "I will never forget you, Toshiki Matsu."  
  
And with that, the scarlet hitokiri sped off into the night. As he turned to ride down the beaten path, the cloud of dust kicked up by his horse's hooves sent the mist soaring and a light illuminated the sky. From behind the sakura, bare of leaves and buds, the moon shone out from behind a cloud, rising slowly in the night sky. Its luminosity bore into her and its awing light inspired her: the great orb, always watching, always guiding, always protecting, and a muse for the poet and a dream for those who gaze at its face. In that instant, the words came to her mind:  
  
What does the flower whisper when a white moon rises?  
  
Toshiki smiled softly and let the happy tears fall. She now understood the meaning, she had solved the riddle. The face of her lover, scarred upon her heart just as deeply as the wound upon his cheek, reflected into the glowing surface of the moon and gave her the undoubtedly sure answer to that question that had plagued her for so long.  
  
I am the flower...the moon is my lover...and the words I whisper are those of my undying love...  
  
Aishiteru...my sweet, Akai.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------- A/N: Crimety! My poor brain! How am I ever going to finish this? AHHHH! Hoped you like! REVIEWS PLEASE! 


	11. To Tame the Wolves

A/N: My word that was difficult. My brain hurts! Sorry for the delay, I've been so busy I haven't been able to work on this story. Well, here's the 10th chapter for you! Only two more to go and...and an epilogue! I'm horrible! I'm going to kill my brain! Oh, well. Thank you all so much for the great reviews! Please read and send me more! REVIEWS ARE MY LIFE FORCE!  
  
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Chapter 10 – To Tame the Wolves  
  
The streets were lit with the glowing silver light of the moon, hovering high above in the night sky, as Battousai rode through the streets of Osaka. A ban of clouds hovering overhead concealed the moon behind their gloomy veil, eclipsing the path of light. Vending booths and inns rushed by in a blur, as he made his way through the town, swiftly cantering down the empty roads, the sound of the white horse's pounding hooves breaking an eerie silence.  
  
Glancing around, he grew suspicious at the deafening quiet, the vacant roadways and the hush of darkness closing in around him. Normally the streets would still be occupied by several night-goers returning from inns and pleasure houses, but not tonight. A hushed wind whistled across the sandy road, kicking up a whirlwind of dust and fog, as he made his way to the outskirts.  
  
His thoughts drifted, momentarily, to the raven-haired maiden he had left behind not too long ago. Sadness had drowned her spirit, the glowing smile had gone from her once joyful beauty, and he felt regret for leaving her in such a state. But this was no time for a lament.

_It does not matter now. I have done the right thing. If I had stayed, she would be in danger. Leaving was the only option left. Soon she will understand...soon she will forget me._  
  
Though the words formed, the swordsman could not help but look back for a single moment and wish good fortune to the woman he had grown to love. Suddenly, his attention turned to his fleeting steed, which had now slowed, and was violently leaping about in the thickening mist. The azure eyes grew white with agitation, the pink nose flaring and lips frothing with putrid foam. In a flash, he rose high upon his hind legs, throwing his head against the pull of the bit, and snorting with rage. As Battousai fought against the unruly beast, a flash of scarlet fire reflected by from its wild eye.  
  
He turned round and saw an army of horsemen barreling towards him, the thunderous sound of a cavalry echoing through the alleyways. Clad in blue and white haori, white and red headbands flying behind them, and flags with the words: "Makoto" splashed in white, Battousai snarled as he realized who they were.  
  
"Shinsengumi."  
  
Digging his heels into the horse's sides, he urged Tsuki into a swift gallop and fled down the darkening streets. They pursued without question, flying through the mist and fog, crimson torches lighting their way. Battousai knew of their ways quite well as he glanced back several times, judging how many men were chasing after him. He counted at least thirty- five, perhaps forty, most on horseback, with a few archers and swordsmen trailing behind. They would try and run him down using tremendous force, thinking no one would be able to stand up to such numbers. Again, they had misjudged his abilities.  
  
Battousai's amber eye caught sight of a bamboo thicket just beyond the edge of the road. He had gotten far enough out of the city to prevent any innocents from getting involved, if they hadn't heard the ruckus already. Swift enough to catch them off guard, he turned his steed off the path and dove into the bamboo, disappearing into the darkness. A clamor of halting beasts and angry shouts caused a smile to grace his solemn face. Though their reputation was good, the truth of the matter was, the Shinsengumi were nothing but dogs, pets of the Shogun and his ideals, unable to function individually, but coming at their opponents as a massive group. Only cowards fought in this manner, and it was this fact that amused the scarlet swordsman ever more.  
  
Still, despite his disappointment, his pursuers soon were upon him again, blasting through the great thicket, knocking down stalks by the dozen. He urged his steed to press forward, leaping and ducking around the swaying grass poles, utilizing the exotic steed's athletic flexibility. The small brown ponies the Shinsengumi rode found much trouble gaining speed, and soon filtered away into the darkness, unable to keep up. Battousai smiled softly, assuring himself he had lost them, when suddenly a dozen horsemen appeared from the left, leaping out of the brush and into the long strip of clearing he had been galloping through. They came round swiftly, blocking the exit, drawing their swords and preparing to charge. Those who had lagged behind soon caught up with their fleeing enemy and enclosed around the single swordsman like a pack of hungry, snarling wolves. Their eyes glowed in the firelight that flickered upon their torches, silver swords glinting crimson, thirsty for blood.  
  
"Stand down, Battousai! You are out-numbered," a man shouted from within the horde.  
  
Battousai lowered his eyes and relaxed his hands, letting the leather reins fall across Tsuki's sweaty neck. He breathed slowly, feeling the pulsing movement of his horse's heaving sides. A brisk wind raged through the thicket, making the bamboo creak and moan in agony, their leaves breaking off in loud snaps and flickering wildly in the light of the torches. The men grew restless as a great aura settled over them, one of immense power and inhuman might. The swordsman remained motionless as the wind picked up, sending the cavalry horses into a nervous panic. Their eyes white with terror, the brown ponies reared up madly, knocking their riders off, and fleeing into the forest. Angry and confused, the Shinsengumi rallied up, one and all, swords drawn for ground-battle, facing a single swordsman and his white horse. They came closer, ever nearer to the silent youth, who sat calmly upon the back of his ghostly white horse, disdainfully unbothered by their growing threat.  
  
"Enough waiting! Attack now!"  
  
They came for him swiftly, swords arched into a horizontal stance and gleaming in the firelight. The radiance of the full moon suddenly broke the through the midnight clouds, blood red and burning with anticipation of the coming battle. Battousai felt it, and welcomed the delicious power, that had lain dormant within him, flow freely through his veins. His eyes glowed with a mad, demonic, amber glare as he drew his sword and began the slaughter.

  
  
Toshiki lay awake upon her futon, her eyes gazing off through the open window, staring at the face of the full moon. She thought her eyes were drained, but the tears kept flowing from them.  
  
_It seems as but a dream...the scarlet swordsman that came into my life is gone forever...I may never see him again._  
  
Yet she could see him...every part of him. His very essence was etched into her heart and would never be eroded. No matter how many men she would encounter, no matter how many times she would feel their love, only one touched her very soul: the powerful aura of Battousai, the man she called Akai. Her gaze deepened as she saw in her thoughts his regal form, golden and glowing in the candlelight. His long red hair spilling over his shoulder, eyes aflame with amber lust. The smooth caress of his hands and the moistness of his lips sliding across her throat coursed through her like a flood of rapture. How could she have let him go? She vowed to be by his side forever, but in the instant that he left, she was powerless. What had happened to her determination, her never-ending and relentless quest for his love and attention? What had happened to the one power she possessed? How could she have let him go off to battle without her? He would only return to the mad hitokiri, unable to control his rage and thirst for blood. Then again, if she did go with him she would only be a burden. Her mind was so muddled that she balled her fists, tight enough for her fingernails to draw blood, and screamed into the futon like a child. _What am I to do? What am I to do?_  
  
Suddenly the air grew still and the moon turned a bloody red in the sky. The sound of horses alerted her to the presence of someone at the front gates. She flew to the window, hoping, praying, that it might be her lover returning to her. What she hoped and what she saw, however, were as different as night and day. Amber torches lit up the streets in front of the mansion, just beyond the wall. What seemed to be an army stood before it, equipped with spears and swords, looking as if they'd barge inside at any moment. Her heart skipped, realizing the great danger looming before her. The threats Akai had warned her of were coming to pass.  
  
She rose to her feet and threw open the fusuma. Stepping out into the hallway, she turned to race across the house and warn her father, when a cold hand stretched out, silencing her scream, and dragged her into the darkness. Eyes wide with terror, her arms flailing, Toshiki clawed at the hands, digging her nails into her attacker, and tried to fight him off.  
  
"Calm down, you little cat," a familiar voice hissed, relaxing his grip around her mouth.  
  
Toshiki turned her eyes upward and caught the chiseled features and dark eyes of her sword master. "Kaurousuke?" she gasped through his chilly fingers. "What's going on? Who are those men outside?"  
  
"Be still, and lower your voice, unless you wish to be caught." Kaurousuke grasped her by the hand and crept over to the window.  
  
The armed men had already come through the front gates and were now flooding the courtyard. An army of at least fifty began searching around for the inhabitants of the mansion, clad in blue and white haori and white bandanas. Toshiki noticed the garb and the white and red banners on their horses. They barged through the doors of the lower levels with a swift horizontal sword technique, and called for the lord of the estate to come out.  
  
Toshiki gasped in horror as she realized who those terrible men were. She turned to her master and breathed, "It is the Shinsengumi!"  
  
"What?" her master asked, confused at her sudden terror.  
  
"The Shinsengumi, the army allied with the Shogun! They have come to take us away. They have come to kill us!"  
  
"Child, do not raise your voice," he growled. "Why would you think such things? We have done nothing wrong."  
  
"The swordsman, he told me such things would come upon us. It is because we are sided with the Emperor. Kokkaido's men must have told them of us, and sent this army to destroy us!"  
  
"Toshiki, Kokkaido's men were vanquished. How can it be that they are at fault?"  
  
"Because they too are his allies, the Shinsengumi are sided with him! They've followed our trail! The nightmare is coming to pass! Death is upon us!"  
  
"Hush, you little ermine, do you wish for them to find us? They're searching the house! We must escape at once!"  
  
Taking her by the hand, Kaurousuke fled down the wooden steps and headed for the rear exit. Servants fluttered through the hallways, crying and shouting in fright. Toshiki glanced around and halted, noticing her father's figure in the middle of the courtyard, standing amidst the army. A large samurai was glaring down at him as he pleaded for mercy upon his household. The soldier shouted something at his face, drew his sword and cut the daimyo down in an instant, dark blood staining the sand.  
  
Toshiki's heart stopped. Her father had been slain, before her very eyes. He lay there dead amidst the growing noise and chaos.  
  
"No...Otosan..." she sobbed, tears of pain and shock streaming down her cheeks. "Otosan!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Toshiki," Kaurousuke sighed. "There was nothing we could do."  
  
The tears came, and she wept bitterly at the great tragedy that had befallen her. Clenching her fists, she fought them off, as anger grew hot within her breast. Rage against those smug armed men, who laughed and jeered over her father's demise. She could feel a great ominous fury coursing through her. They would pay for their wrongdoing. They would die by her hand!  
  
She lunged toward the courtyard, fighting her master's grip. He tried to hold onto her, but she angrily pried away from Kaurousuke and fled in the other direction toward the dojo. "No, stop!" he called after her. "You'll get yourself killed! Come back, Toshiki!"  
  
She ignored his voice and continued on through the blinding chaos. Concealing herself in the darkness, she hopped off the walkway and burst into the dojo, frantically searching for her great weapon. She spotted it, the naginata, untouched and shining upon the golden stand.  
  
She approached it and spoke aloud, "My father was taken from me before my very eyes. My house is filled with the enemy, and I am terrified beyond imagination. Yet...I shall not run away! Akai...lend me your strength to avenge my family, lend me your power to avenge my father's death!"  
  
She took hold of the sleek blade and turned to face the enemy, hatred coursing through her veins, poisoning every tear that dripped from her amber streaked eyes. As she raced toward the exit, a great searing heat suddenly blazed from the doorway, pelting her to the ground. Flames snaked across the floor and through the walls, a bright amber radiance blinding her eyes, and paralyzing her breath. Coughing, she tried to escape, but a wall of fire, amber and glowing, blocked every passage, snarling around her like a dragon.  
  
Terror-stricken, she clutched the naginata and cried out in a dreadful tone. Tears flowed from her eyes, evaporating from her cheeks as the heat came round, closing in to reduce her ashes. Her eyes, half-blinded by the smoke, gazed into the sliver of her last possession. She stroked the hot steel and opened her mouth to whisper the sweet sound of her lover's name, but her throat was frozen and thick with black fumes. Her eyes blurred, the light of the flames transforming into gold. She fell against the smoldering wooden floor planks, holding the naginata close to her heart, the image of her lover blazing in her mind.  
  
_Promise me...Akai...promise that you'll never forget me....  
  
Never forget me...  
  
I will never forget..._


	12. Flames of Sorrow

A/N:  
  
Second to last chapter is done! I'm so proud! I'm almost done! YAY! Thanks for all the great reviews!! I really appreciate it! Hopefully it will all be worth it when I am finished.  
  
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Chapter 11 – Flames of Sorrow  
  
It had been well over a half hour since the battle began, yet the scarlet swordsman showed no sign of weakening. He had reduced their numbers significantly. Thirty men lay dead, scattered about the bamboo thicket, the ground soaked with their blood. Still they kept coming, and still the single swordsman fought them off. Battousai gritted his teeth as one of his opponents sliced at his shoulder, another catching his thigh. Pain was nothing to him. These mongrels were nothing to him. Soon they would all be dead, and their threat would vanish as quickly they came.  
  
Battousai swung his sword to the right, taking down three men at once, two more as he came around a second time. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of Shiro Tsuki, galloping through the hordes of raving wolves, white teeth bared, almost growling in a horrendous torrent of whinnies and snorts. The swordsman had no need to worry about the white horse, for he was trained for such situations, and would not die off easily.  
  
The scarlet swordsman kept fighting, unaware that a tempest was brewing only a few miles away. Cutting down men left and right, soon he found himself nearly alone on the battlefield, only a few still standing, most hiding in the foliage, planning their next move. Battousai stood ready, waiting for them to strike again, his sword bloody and gleaming in the moonlight.  
  
Suddenly, the luminous orb turned crimson, bathing the forest in a scarlet radiance, a deathly frightening aura plaguing his heart. He looked up to the sky and noticed a strange black cloud looming in the distance, smoldering with an amber glare. Smoke! A huge cloud of sulfur and ash, climbing high into the atmosphere, emanating from the Matsu estate! Flashes of burning fire, flickering embers, the heat of destruction, struck his heart, leaving him aghast. Shock overcame him, and in that instant, he failed to notice an arrow screaming through the night.  
  
The point missed his head by inches, but grazed his cheek, slicing open another wound through the one that had already been inflicted. The force of the blow, knocked the wind out of him, his head was thrown backward, his body reeling. Landing on the ground, he arched his back, writhing in pain, his eyes wide and wild, pulsing with amber fire and shock. A scream broke the silence, coming from the edge of the clearing. Flipping himself over, Battousai saw the arrow fly toward the white horse, which was standing upon his hind legs, striking at the swordsmen who were trying to capture him. Horrified, he saw the arrow land squarely in the horse's chest, piercing his very heart. Tsuki paused in mid-air, eyes wide with fury, and screamed like a demon into the night. Battousai watched as the great, warhorse fell onto his side, his thick blood soaking the earth, his labored breathing fading into the darkness.  
  
The swordsman gasped as he saw Tsuki lying there, dying, anger flaming in his heart, consuming his mind and his soul. Clenching his fist on the hilt of his sword, he rose to his feet, blood pouring from his fresh wounds and let out a horrible cry of anguish and rage.  
  
_They will pay for their insolence, their cowardice; their terrible evil shall be demolished! How dare they destroy everything I hold dear! How dare they raise one finger against my heart! My soul! They shall feel my unsheathed sword! They shall die screaming the name Battousai!_  
  
Eyes flashing with an inhuman glare, he rushed into the thicket, not waiting for them to strike first, catching each and every last Shinsengumi off guard, and ending their lives before they had any chance to retaliate.  
  
Within moments, every swordsman, archer, horse and foot soldier lay dead. Only one remained alive. Battousai stood trembling, his face, haori and sword drenched in blood, his hands trembling, harsh gasps hissing through his teeth. The air reeked of death. So many men massacred by the hand of only one, however, the scarlet swordsman had no time to praise himself over his victory. The fate of his only love was hanging in the balance. Ignoring the pain in his limbs and face, the bloody swordsman rushed off through the forest, heading for the Matsu estate, hoping and praying that his love would be there waiting for him...alive.

He stood before the smoldering mansion, his face pale with moonlight and shock, laced with blood that dripped from his temples. His breath caught in his throat as he viewed the terrible glowing carnage of twisted lattices, splintered columns, and melted gold dragons that writhed in the flaming embers. The fire licked across the crumbling house, knocking over lamp stands and the high walls surrounding the courtyard. No voices cried out in anguish for they had all gone. It was this that the scarlet swordsman had feared most.  
  
Unable to enter the hellish place, he cried out her name, over and over into the roaring inferno, only to receive silence as to any human reply. His heart felt it would tear asunder, as he kept calling her name, drowning in the sorrow that flooded his being at hearing nothing but the growl of the fire. Clenching his fists, he threw them against the stonewalls, again and again until they stung and bled profusely. He ground his teeth until his mouth turned crimson, crying out in agony at his great loss, his body aching, trembling with despair. Tears flowed from his eyes, the first river of sadness to befall him since his childhood days. The years of battle had hardened him, but nothing could hold back the terrible sorrow he endured at that very moment.  
  
"How could I have let this happen?" he gasped, lips quivering. "How could I? I thought you were safe...I thought no harm would come to you...what a fool I have been! What a cursed man I have become! I am to be cursed and sent to an early grave for letting my love die at the hands of my enemies!"  
  
Battousai snarled in anger and drew his wakizashi; languidly turning it's fanged tip toward his heart. He paused for a moment and contemplated his brashness. Looking down at the silvery edge, he thought back to the night where, in desperation and bravery, the young raven-haired maid had taken hold of that very weapon and fought off an army. It contained her spirit, her soul, and her love.  
  
_Do not forget me..._ he heard her beautiful voice echo from beyond. _Promise that you'll never forget me._  
  
Battousai lowered the sword and returned it to its sheath. He could not raise his sword against himself, for she would not have wished him such a fate. How could he remember her if he lay dead in his grave? No... She would have wished him to live on, to remember her kindness and courage for the rest of his days, until he would finally join her and never leave her side. Battousai rose to his feet and glanced back once more at the ruins.  
  
"I will never forget..."

Battousai returned to the bamboo thicket, and came to the side of the white horse. Tsuki lay dead where he had fallen. The light was gone from his sapphire eyes, his sides peacefully still, the long stormy mane drenched in blood that still flowed from the arrow lodged in his heart. The scarlet swordsman kneeled down beside the great head and placed a hand on the smooth white jaw. It was still warm. His death occurred perhaps moments after he had rushed off.  
  
Pain shot through his neck from the wicked lash across his left cheek and he reached for a cloth. Digging into his sleeve, he brought out a piece of stained silk, but paused before pressing it to his face. It was the gift he had received from Toshiki to treat his wound after the battle with Kokkaido. He remembered her smooth hands and her even smoother lips brushing against his for a single moment. Though she was gone, her love for him still lingered in the tattered rag he held in his hands. He drew the cloth from his bleeding gash and his eyes widened at a cross-shape stain on the smooth silk.  
  
Eyes shaded under his bangs, he realized that he would forever be scarred with this memory, not only on his face, but also upon his heart. All who would meet him or know him would too discern of the tragedy within his soul, with only a passing glance. The light faded from his eyes, dulled with sadness, as he raised a finger and with his life-blood, drew a mark upon the horse's flank, a crescent moon. He then tied the cloth around Tsuki's back left leg, so that whomever discovered this massacre and the ill-fated white steed, would know of his loss as well.  
  
With a solemn heart, Battousai rose and turned toward the horizon. The glowing sun peeked over the mountaintops, sending rays of warm light across his battle-lashed body. Round and bright with joy, the morning sang to him a glorious song of rebirth, but he did not hear it. His heart had sunk into a sadness that could not be comforted, a pain that could not be remedied, and a scar that could not be healed. The face of the young girl he could not save was engraved in his soul forever, and the heartrending story would always follow after. Sighing heavily, he let one last tear roll down his wounded cheek. As it dripped off his jaw and hit the ground, the sorrowful ping of a flute echoed through the bamboo, and the song of the cherry blossoms rang in his ears; Her presence was there...forever haunting him in his memory.  
  
"Goodbye, Toshiki..." he whispered, and walked toward the mountains. He never looked back.  
  
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A/N:  
  
Teaser for you. The last chapter is entitled: DEATH OF BATTOUSAI! Hope that keeps you in suspense. Ciao 


	13. Death of Battousai

A/N:

YES! Finally its here! The last chapter! Sorry about the delay. My brain has been out-of-whack but I've finished! Thank you for your time and patience and all the great reviews! Hope you've enjoyed this story as much as I did. Here's the last chapter.

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Chapter 12 – Death of Battousai

Evening in the hidden districts of Kyoto. Silence rang though the air, seeping through the thin rice-paper walls of the Ishinshishi headquarters. The sound of muffled footsteps broke the eerie quiet, as a dark form stepped along the inner hallways. Passing vacant rooms, the figure stopped before the last door, the fusuma glowing with amber candlelight. He inhaled softly, raised a hand and lightly knocked on the wooden framing. Though there was silence, he boldly placed his hand on the door catch, and slowly opened it.

The room was quite empty, only a single paper lamp flickered away the shadows that played upon the walls. Alone upon the tatami, Battousai sat, clutching his sheathed katana to his chest, his downcast eyes shutting out the world. He seemed asleep, however the figure knew better. The young swordsman had heard the knocking, and instantly raised his eyes to meet his superior.

The figure nodded and sat down on a floor cushion in the center of the room. He was a few years older than Battousai, around thirty years of age, his dark eyes bearing a look of wisdom and experience. His garments proclaimed him to be a samurai, though his swords had been put away, his forehead unshaven. The leader of the Choshu Ishin, Kogoro Katsura was known as the greatest revolutionist of that time, and the most cunning. However, his power lay not only within his own skills, but also in that of his fellow men, the most powerful being the scarlet swordsman before him. Battousai lowered his gaze again, unwilling to stare into the eyes of his leader. His motive, however, was not one of respect, but of resentment.

Katsura, feeling the tension in the room rise, spoke softly so as not to anger his young friend. "I see you have returned. You are early, as expected. Was the mission successful?"

Though the youth did not acknowledge his query, Katsura could feel the heat of his anger, a lurking demonic spirit crouching in the darkness. This did not disturb him, for it was the same sensation he often felt when asking the success of his greatest warrior. There was no need for the scarlet swordsman to speak, for the intensity of his rage and his tightening grip on his sword was all the reply necessary.

"I see," Katsura smiled slightly. "Forgive me. I find myself forgetting that I need not question the strongest of the Imperialists."

Battousai let out a quiet sigh and turned his head away. In the dim light, Katsura had, until now, failed to notice the bandage that donned his left cheek. The sight of it disturbed him, for in the three years Battousai had served as a hitokiri, he was ever victorious and unscathed. What manner of battle did he endure to receive that kind of blow?

Again, he sensed a growing agitation; only it was much greater than before. Battousai's spirit was low and deeply injured, rage consumed his heart, and guilt poisoned his soul. Something had occurred during the few weeks he had been absent, and it was apparent that it had been quite unpleasant. Katsura often warned his young follower not to become involved with the people surrounding his opponents. Such reactions told him he had done just that, and had suffered for it. What could have happened to cause his spirit to be inflicted with such pain?

Sensing that questioning such a riled man would lead to disaster, Katsura decided to leave him to his own thoughts. Perhaps he would leave off assignments to him for a while, at least until his soul settled. Though he did admire Battousai's skill with the sword, each time he sent him into battle he would return more and more restless in spirit. This worried him most of all.

Katsura rose and went to leave. As he shut the door behind him, he caught the heart-wrenching sound of sobs coming from his young friend. Guilt nagged at him, and he understood who was truly at fault for this dying spirit. As he retired, the cries echoed though the empty house, and faded into the night.

****

_The silk ran through his fingers as he let the curtain fall behind him, ignoring whatever he might have seen in the night. Now his entire focus was on the beautiful maiden that lay before him. Her raven-black locks spilled down her back, framing her milky-white arms and slender legs. Battousai kneeled and caught her up in his arms, feeling her body tremble beneath him. His fingers tangled in her hair, caressing her temples, and stroking the fine strands at the nape of her neck. His lips, warm with baited breath, closed in over hers, desire consuming his soul. Her gasps aroused him, a violent passion welling up within his heart; he struggled not to tear into her. Fingertips trembling with impatience, he grasped her shoulders and drew the kimono away, his tongue drawling over her throat. He wanted her, wished to feel the love that she offered him, desired the freeness of passion and to drown his guilt. He had killed so many, taken countless lives, and lived upon the thrill of the fight. Now it was different, now he had returned to the child within, only it had grown into a man, longing to experience the thing young men desire most: the love of a woman. Battousai moaned in pleasure as he felt her soft hands race along his spine. Closer and closer he drew to her, almost connecting, soon to join into her mind and spirit. Soon she would be his forever; soon he could put away his guilt and sorrow, for she was with him, forever at his side, forever in his heart._

_Suddenly, her breathing stopped, her sparkling emerald eyes dulled, the flush of her cheek fading. Her body grew cold and lifeless, her eyes glazing over, the light in them consumed by darkness._

'_No...she can't be gone...'_

_Flames erupted from his hands and singed her skin, engulfing her body in a raging inferno. Wicked spirits cackled from the black void surrounding him, screaming that her demise was because of his own folly. They jeered at his sorrow and turned her body to ashes. In his wild grief, he saw the cinders suddenly burst to life. For an instant his sobs abated as he felt her ghostly hands on his cheeks, caressing his scars, her voice filled with song as she whispered, _

'_Akai....'_

__

__

****

Battousai jolted into consciousness and the silence of the early morning hours. His body shivered in a cold sweat, his heart pounding, eyes filling with tears. Raking his hands through his sweat-drenched locks, a sob slipped through his quivering lips and his body shook with grief. The nightmare was real. In his mind, she existed, warm and alive, forever beside him, forever his. However, in the cruel harsh world of reality, the horror of her death plagued his very being, ripping apart his essence, destroying his soul.

Over and over he asked the darkness why the young girl was taken instead of him, why his inspiration and love was cut down in its prime, why the joy of her beauty and life now lay in torment. Pain stung through his temples as his wounds reopened, dark blood staining the bandage laid across his jaw. Laying a hand over it, he shut his eyes and struggled to bring his sanity back from the black void it had fallen into.

Taking his hand away he stared at the strange mark of blood trickling off his fingers. _These wounds...I fear they will never heal. I fear...I shall never be rid of them. This cursed mark upon my face. It is my enemies who have caused me this grief...it is the evil that lurks within this world and... it is also my own self that is guilty...this evil creature lurking inside of me, this mad apparition my own hatred has created._

His amber eyes glanced over at the lacquered wood stand clutching his two warrior blades, the heartbeat of his katana whispering to him.

_How can I repent for these grave sins, if I cannot take my own life? I would rather die than live with this vile spirit raging in my breast, thirsting for blood and destroying all I hold dear. How can I live with it? How?_

In desperation, he fell onto his hands and knees, burying his face in the damp futon; he released his pain, his pitiful sobs echoing into the night. He could not bear it, the grief struck at him harder and more brutal than any sword, the memories ravaging his thoughts, tearing his heart in two. The guilt was almost unbearable, and what strength he possessed was unable to thwart it. Every moment of violence returned to him, the face of each person he had killed flashed in his mind over and over again, haunting him. His life seemed to be falling apart at the seams; every motivation to keep fighting was failing, every drive that was there to keep him living was fading away, all except one. The glowing presence of the young girl he loved.

The tears drained leaving his shaken body damp and lifeless, but his spirit was returning. Toshiki was there, clear as the mid-day sky, sitting beside the futon in the dark and solemn room. His eyes widened at seeing her, his trembling hands reaching out to hold her in his arms, to feel her warmth, to ease his pain. The sound of a flute echoed from his memory, and he watched as her soulless eyes slowly lifted to meet his, a small smile creeping across her perfect face. Then, she vanished.

Battousai sat there; unsure if what he saw or heard was real. Whatever his mind was still deciding on, his heart had already come to a conclusion. Her presence had inspired him. How could he just sit there and give up hope, blaming himself for the horrible things he had done and forgetting the one thing he knew was right in the world? How could he let the evil that had destroyed his love continue to torment others? Now, he understood what had to be done. Whatever evils he had to face, whatever deeds he had to commit, whatever price he had to pay, what was started was in need of an end. For the sake of all he was indebted to, for the good of all he cared for, for the survival of his country, and for the life of the one he loved, he would end it.

****

1868. The year had come and gone. The great battle at Toba-Fushimi had ended the reign of the Tokugawa Shogunate. All allies to the Emperor breathed a sigh of relief that the war was finally over. A new government was put in place of the corrupted predecessor, a new ruler placed upon its throne. The Meiji era had begun. The warriors of the Satsuma and Choshu groups were free to return from whence they came and start their lives anew in a world of freedom.

Leader of the Choshu Ishin, Kogoro Katsura, returned to the base a few days after the battles had been completed. Though his heart rejoiced over the great victory, his spirit was troubled at the absence of his greatest ally. The swordsman Battousai had not been seen since the first blow was struck at Toba-Fushimi. The chaotic warfare in Kyoto consumed him and no one had spotted his fearful silhouette since that day. Katsura had immediately sent men out to search for their lost comrade, but they returned empty-handed.

Laden with worry, Katsura sent the men out to search once more, and retired to his quarters. He lowered his weary body onto a floor cushion and sighed, rubbing the anxiety out of his temples. The lad was reckless, but was never disloyal. It was not in his nature to run off without leaving word of his departure. Dark eyes lifting to the small writing desk he had left strewn with reports, he noticed a freshly folded sheet of rice paper neatly placed upon the pile. A white-haired brush lay soaked with ink upon the desk, the smooth ink-stone wet with black water. Katsura reached over and took the note between his fingers. An absent signature puzzled him, but as soon as he opened the delicate leaves, the glistening, wet calligraphy startled but, at the same time, relieved his spirit. It read:

'_Now that it has ended, I am no longer needed here. I am tired of killing. Hitokiri Battousai is no more.'_

Breathing a sigh of relief and sadness, Katsura's hands fell into his lap, still clutching the last words of the young swordsman. Tears formed in his eyes at the guilt swelling within his heart. So many times he had blamed himself for the youth's hardship, yet the shame was always glazed over with the thought of his power and the good use gained from his help during the war. Now that it was over, that power had no more value than a grain of sand. The question came into his mind, as it had often in his thoughts during the past few years: Was it worth it?

At this point in time, he could finally admit, no...it wasn't. The future of a young man with that much talent had been ruined because of greed. The longing for peace had destroyed so many, and because of this fact, he was guilty of murder: the death of a spirit, the death of Battousai. Then, the thought occurred that, perhaps, the spirit had never gone, but remained deep in the soul of the one carrying it. Perhaps, somewhere, in that beautiful world of snowy mountaintops, glistening pines, crimson sunlight and crashing shores, there remained the spirit of a man whose heart would never die, and who's love for good would live on far beyond his years.

Gently, he folded the note and placed it in a sealed wooden scroll case. Upon the seal was the head of a dragon, lacquered in gold, its ruby eyes flashing in the sunlight. Katsura smiled and whispered softly, "Farewell, my friend."

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A/N:

Oh, did I say this was the end? Not so. There is an epilogue! GO SEE!


	14. Epilogue Waiting for a Sign

A/N:

I give you the finale!

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Epilogue – Waiting for a Sign

Gloomy darkness consumed the land as the moon began to rise above the crested mountain peaks. The soft white light crept through the bamboo and pine forest, coming to rest upon a cloaked figure standing alone at the base of a sakura tree. In silence it stood, bracing against the gust of wind coming down from the star-studded sky.

The figure drew its trembling fingers into the dark cloak draped across its shoulders. The hands returned into the cool night, bringing out a piece of white cloth, ripped and torn at the edges. Pulling it open, there lay a cross-shaped stain upon the ivory silk, the dark dried blood soaking up the silvery tears trailing along the dove-soft cheeks. Moonlight glistened on the strands of raven-black locks dancing about its face, as the figure stepped into a clearing. Grasping the cloth tightly, the figure looked up to the bright sky, shimmering with stars. A soft wind rustled through the leaves of the trees, the bamboo creaking lightly; the crisp leaves snapping in the cool night air. Silver clouds fled in shame as the moon rose into the heavens, radiating its wondrous light across the land, and into a pair of sparkling emerald-green eyes.

The lips parted in a soft smile, and a sweet voice whispered, "Aishiteru."

Owari


	15. Author's Notes

Author's Notes

First of all I would like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review my story. It helped a lot. I'm not a very good writer in my opinion, but seeing reviews for my first halfway decent story was wonderful.

To tell the truth, when I first got the idea for "A White Moon Rises," it was just going to be about Kenshin being reunited with a horse that he rode in the wars, but then I realized it was way too immature to write a fluffy pony story. So I tweaked it and messed around and finally was inspired: 'Instead of a horse, how about a rider? So I delve into this full out tale about a girl living a secluded life who suddenly gets the thrill of a lifetime when she encounters the one and only Hitokiri Battousai! I realized that I'd have trouble with reviews because of an OC, Toshiki Matsu. Really, I wanted to have the RK gang in my story, but it didn't work out, so I made up and AU to make it more interesting.

Anyway, it worked out great, even though it took me at least a year to complete this story...I think. oO

I do have good news for everyone who's read or wants to read this story. I'm planning a sequel, and it has the whole RK gang in it, well everyone in the Kenshin-gumi anyway. The title is: "Whispers of a Flower" and I will have it posted as soon as I get the inspiration for it.

Thanks again for the reviews! Hopefully the next story will be even better than the first!

Orcagirl2001


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